Determination
by Aryck1095
Summary: When Coraline mysteriously vanishes several months after her ordeal, her true mother, Mel Jones, must be willing to believe anything- and do anything- to bring her daughter back. Explores the relationship between Coraline and her mother as they venture out into the Other World, looking to uncover the Beldam's beginning, as a means to provide her with an end. Movie-verse.
1. 01: New Perspective

**Author's Notes: Thus begins my first attempt at a Coraline fan-fiction. This is going to be a multi-chaptered short story with a focus on the relationship between Coraline and her real mother. The thing is, towards the middle of the movie, I got the sense that Mrs. Jones knew something was wrong, or at least suspected. _Determination _is a continuation of the story from the movie based on those suspicions; for when Coraline vanishes without a trace several months later, Mel must uncover the truth about the Pink Palace, and unearth the mysteries surrounding the origins of the "Other Mother" to have any hope of bringing her daughter back. Here we go.**

**Reviews are appreciated more than faves. Critique is welcome. Flamers will be fed to my slightly overweight cat. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 1, _New Perspective_**

Mel Jones was not a superstitious woman.

She had always been a bit skeptical when it came to the supernatural; she couldn't watch any of those shows on TV about supposedly haunted houses, ghost hunters, and demonic apparitions without rolling her eyes or shaking her head, or occasionally commenting that the live "hauntings" taking place on the TV were staged for profit.

That was before she and her husband and daughter had been forced to move out to Ashland, to the Pink Palace Apartments. Before her daughter had begun raving about the fantastical dreams she'd been having at night after moving into the house. The ones where she would meet her "Other" Mother, the doppelganger of Mel Jones with black buttons for eyes, that fulfilled her every desire, cooked her favorite meals, and supposedly made every dream come true.

And before the dire warning she had received from the owner of the apartment, Mrs. Lovat, about a demonic spirit that lured young children away, through the little door in the sitting room, drawing them to their doom with promises of all their wishes being fulfilled for as long as they lived.

They had only been in Oregon for three days, and two nights. Mel had 'encouraged' Coraline to visit the neighbors downstairs, the two elderly former "actresses" dedicated to one of the worlds oldest professions. Perhaps those two ditzy woman could keep her daughter entertained for a little while with stories of their years in the theatre, for she knew Coraline had an interest in such things. It would give her some time to work without interruption, some peace and quiet to wrap up the gardening catalogue she worked on with her husband, which they had to turn into their employers the next day.

Unfortunately, she was interrupted anyway; not by her 11-year old daughter, but by the owner of the apartment, whom she found standing on the doorstep looking rather cross. It was at that point that Mel remembered that Mrs. Lovat did not rent the building to families with young children, and that she had deliberately neglected to mention that she and her husband did in fact have a daughter, given that this dilapidated, 150-year old house had been the best they could afford what with their current financial situation.

"When my grandson came home yesterday, he brought to my attention that you have a young daughter, Mrs. Jones," she had stated. No doubt she was referring to the young african-american boy who had left a parcel on their doorstep the day before, that which contained the doll; a homemade, button-eyed miniature replica of Coraline that was disturbingly accurate in appearance to its real-live counterpart. Mel had tried to explain her reasoning, that she had no other options, and that Coraline was reasonably well-behaved and would not cause any damage to the house or be a bother to the neighbors, but Mrs. Lovat would make it clear that she had completely different concerns as to their being a young child living in the Pink Palace.

"I don't rent this house to families with children _for a reason,_ Mrs. Jones. And one far less trivial," she had said as she stepped into the kitchen, after Mel had politely invited her in. This statement had left her rather puzzled, and so she had inquired further; but the superstitious nonsense she had received as an answer hadn't been entirely unexpected.

"What exactly is your concern?" She had asked, befuddled. Mrs. Lovat had taken a seat at the kitchen table opposite of her, looking rather grim.

"This house... is strange. She began. "It isn't safe for children. There have been several... disappearances, all throughout history, ever since this land was settled, and this house was first built." She had answered.

"...including my twin sister," she added, wiping away a stray tear that had leaked from her tired dark-brown eyes.

"Your sister?" Mel inquired; curious, yet secretly a bit skeptical at that particular moment.

Mrs. Lovat nodded. "I grew up in this house. When I was a little girl, my sister vanished without a trace. I never knew what happened to her, but..." She paused. Mel listened intently.

"But what?"

"Before she disappeared..." Mrs. Lovat continued, "...she spoke of these fantastical dreams she had, of another world behind the little door in our sitting room (at these words, Mel froze), and about her 'Other Mother', who was like our real mother, but was nicer, and gave her anything she wanted." Mel was frozen in her seat, having been caught completely off-guard by Mrs. Lovat's tale, and was becoming somewhat anxious for the fact that her own daughter had told her of an identical dream just hours before. But then her skeptical side kicked in, as she realized just what was being said.

"Wait a minute..." Mel interrupted, "...are you trying to tell me this house is... haunted?"

For a moment, Mrs. Lovat did not answer.

"Honestly, I don't know. But I later learned that there were two other children that vanished in this house long before." That caused Mel Jone's skeptical side to reel back a bit. "One odd thing I am willing to believe," she continued, "... but two is no coincidence."

"Mrs. Lovat, I don't believe in ghosts, or haunted houses, or anything supernatural, for that matter," Mel blurted out, having become increasingly uneasy by what the older woman was implying.

"I understand," she replied. "Most would not believe in such things, either for simple narrow-mindedness, or for fear of what the truth might entail". She paused. "But no matter your opinions on such matters, I would encourage you to keep your eyes and your mind open, for your daughter's sake, as well as yours."

Mel said nothing for a moment, silently contemplating what she'd been told. The skeptical side of her mind was trying to assert that this was nonsense, that there was no such thing as ghosts, evil spirits, or demons; much less anything in this house that could harm Coraline, or anyone else that dwelled within. At the same time, the more cautious and motherly side of her told her that there was likely some truth to what this woman was saying... had other children truly disappeared from this house in the past? Did they all have the same dreams about this "Other Mother" before they vanished. Could some other-worldly creature actually be stalking her only child, attempting to steal Coraline away from her?

After a long, awkward silence, Mrs. Lovat chose to interrupt her pondering.

"Mrs. Jones... has your daughter told you of any strange dreams since you arrived here?"

For a moment, Mel did not answer.

"No..." she lied. "No... nothing like that."

* * *

The day immediately after had done little to put Mel Jones' mind at ease. She had been woken up the previous night, having heard a noise downstairs, only to discover the little door in the sitting room ajar, though still bricked over. The sight had been enough to make her all the more uneasy, and had led her to creep back upstairs to peek into her daughter's room; she had let out a sigh of relief to find that Coraline was asleep in her bed unharmed, smiling peacefully in her sleep. Nevertheless, Mel hadn't been able to get back to sleep herself until she had found the key for the little door and locked it tight, then placed the key well out of her daughter's reach on a hook above the doorway in the kitchen. Satisfied that her only child was safe as could possibly be, Mel had gone back to bed.

Then, morning came. She had heard Coraline rush down the stairs, like a child normally would on a Christmas morning, and attempt to pry open the door, to no avail. Then, on the way into town, she had started raving yet again, about another dream just like the last one; this time an incredible fantasy garden, with the plants arranged in a fashion that created a mosaic of Coraline's face, and Mr. Bobinsky's amazing jumping mouse circus in the upstairs apartment, hosted by the button-eyed doppelganger of the eccentric Russian acrobat that actually lived in the apartment above them.

Mel had tried to ignore her; listening would mean acknowledging that what Mrs. Lovat had said about the other missing children was true, and that her daughter was actually in grave danger. But she didn't want to believe it. She couldn't; her skepticism refused to allow her to acknowledge such things as fact, and she told herself that she was just being paranoid, or that Mrs. Lovat wasn't entirely sane. If it was true, what could she do about it? Tell her daughter to stay away from that place? She was only 11-years old, and more than that brash, fiery, curious, and defiant. If Mel told her not to go back to that place, she wouldn't listen. Especially with the way her mother had treated her recently.

It wasn't her fault; she had been under a lot of stress, trying to make the move go as smoothly as possible, finish the catalogue before their deadline, and keep their family out of the gutter in the midst of a recession. She had been relatively successful in that regard, though at the price of neglecting her daughter, and Coraline had come to resent both of her parents for that.

_"My Other Mother would get them..."  
_  
Those words had stung. She'd heard them in the clothes store, after having dropped off Charlie to deliver the new catalogue, when she had taken Coraline to buy a uniform for her new school. Coraline had found a pair of striped, multicolored gloves of green, yellow, and orange, typical for the eccentric 11-year old's wardrobe. She'd wanted to wear them to school, a little something to set her apart from the other students in their dull grey uniforms. But they had been priced at $24.99, a little too much given their current financial situation, and she had told her daughter to put them back. Then she had taken out her phone with intention of calling Charlie, to see how things had gone with the new catalogue, when she'd heard those words.

_My Other Mother would get them..._

"Maybe she should buy all your clothes," Mel had snapped her daughter, without thinking. Typical response from a stressed out, overworked parent to a moderately spoiled child. In hindsight, she should have bit her tongue.

_But there is no 'Other Mother',_ she had thought at the time. There was no evil entity preying on her daughter's petty, selfish desires. She could always make it up to her later; after all, Mel didn't buy things for her daughter _that _often, and usually nothing unreasonably expensive. Nothing to worry about.

The trip home hadn't done her much better. Coraline once again brought up the subject of her strange dreams, and without Charlie around, Mel found she could not simply ignore her this time.

"So, what do you think is in the other apartment?" She had asked.

"I don't know..." Mel answered honestly. "...not a family of Jones imposters." She'd added, more to reassure herself than anything else.

"Then why'd you lock the door?"

"Oh...!" Mel thought up an excuse fast. "I... found some rat crap back there." She paused. "And I thought you'd feel... safer."

"They're _jumping mice_, mom," Coraline corrected. "...and the dreams aren't dangerous. They're the most fun I've had since we've moved here!"

Coraline didn't notice, but Mel was becoming increasingly uneasy from their conversation.

"Your school might be fun-" she suggested weakly.

"-with those stupid uniforms? Right," her daughter countered.

"Had to give it a try..." Mel responded, thinking aloud.

When they had gotten home, Mel found that her kitchen was practically empty, and she had no choice but to go food shopping. With reservations about leaving Coraline home alone, she had invited her to come along, with the incentive that she could pick out something she wanted for a change.

_"Oh. Like the gloves...?"_

That had been her response, clearly indicating that she didn't want to go, and that she was as skeptical of her mother's generosity as Mel had been about the strange occurences that had supposedly taken place in the house. There's was no point in arguing about it. Mel had promised to make it up to her; it was all she could do, besides remaining in firm denial of what the landlady had told her.

* * *

What had happened after was... confusing. Mel had gotten sidetracked from food shopping when she received a phone call from Charlie; their employers had been more than pleased with the new catalogue, and thus, they were already well on the road to financial recovery. Mel had immediately rushed off to pick up her husband, deciding they could always go out for pizza for the night and she could handle food shopping tomorrow. On the way back, she made brief stop at the clothes store from earlier to snap up the gloves Coraline had admired during their previous visit, intent on keeping a promise to her daughter for once.

When they arrived at home, she was relieved to find that her daughter was still their; in the back of her mind, Mel Jones had a strange feeling of foreboding, that when she returned, Coraline would be gone, but her worries had turned out to be for nothing. However, the way Coraline greeted them when they returned was... surprising.

At the sight of them, she had thrown her arms about her parents necks and declared how much she'd missed them, as though hadn't seen them in days. At that point, Mel had looked into the sitting room and noticed a few unusual things; first, her favorite snow globe, the one they'd gotten at the Detroit Zoo two years ago was smashed, glass fragments scattered about the floor below the mantle. Second, was the state of Coraline herself; Coraline was in her pajamas, a leather belt tied about her waist, and wearing a black vest and her sneakers. She was also covered in cobwebs, and the leg of her pajamas was torn, revealing a cut on her knee that was still bleeding. Mel hadn't given much thought to it; she was simply happy that everything had worked out  
and that her fears and turned out to be for nothing, or so it seemed.

For a while after, things seemed to be going well. Their financial worries had been eased somewhat, Coraline had found a new friend in that strange boy Wybie, Mrs. Lovat's grandson, and Mel had finally been able to take some more time to bond with her daughter. The two of them found entertainment in restoring the old house; while Charlie handled the electrical wiring and plumbing, Mel and Coraline tackled the painting, decorating, and much to her daughter's pleasure, the garden. Mel herself was not really into gardening (she hated dirt) but she was glad for the chance to spend time with her daughter, after they had been so distant for so long. Best of all, Coraline would make no mention of the dreams she'd had about the "Other Mother" ever again. It seemed they had finally stopped, and if so, then the danger (assuming there had ever been any) had passed.

Unfortunately, the peace didn't last.

It started about a month after they'd moved in. The nightmares. Several times, Coraline would awake in the middle of the night and run downstairs to the living room to check the little door, which was still locked tight. At first, Mel pretended not to notice. A few times, she heard Coraline talking to someone, someone Mel couldn't see. But the words she spoke in the dark sent a chill down her spine.

_"You can't hurt me anymore. I freed the others. They key is gone. You said yourself that you'd die without me."_

After that, Mel couldn't ignore what was happening anymore. Because the night after Coraline spoke those words to the little door, her daughter wouldn't just wake up in the middle of the night. She'd wake up screaming. The first time, Mel had rushed into her daughter's bedroom (Charlie slept like a rock) and found Coraline sitting up in bed, eyes wide with fear, pale as a ghost and her pajamas soaked through with sweat. Mel had asked her what had happened. "Just a nightmare" was the response she received.

But it was obvious that Coraline was experiencing much more than 'just nightmares'. Each night, she would awaken screaming, as though she had woken up to find someone standing over her with a knife. Mel Jones was getting calls from school, complaints from less-than-compassionate teachers that Coraline was falling asleep in class, fainting in the hallways, and (more importantly, according to them) not doing assignments or turning in homework. Mel was becoming increasingly concerned, and all her old fears had started to come back. She had tried talking to Coraline, tried to convince her to open up, to no avail. If what she suspected was true, then Coraline was reluctant to tell her mother anything for fear of being thought insane, or that she was only pretending.

Mel considered the possibility of moving again, but that simply was not an option; they'd been lucky enough to find a new job and a house after the catalogue they'd worked for before had closed down, and they were unlikely to get lucky a second time. Mel had a strong feeling that the only way to fix this was take the problem head-on, but it didn't help when she wasn't even certain what the problem really was; Mrs. Lovat couldn't offer them any help either, aside from another warning.

"I believe your daughter has aroused the ire of something that is not meant to be crossed. I'm not certain what it is, what it wants, or where it came from. All I can suggest is that you leave. Get as far away from this place as possible, and you may very well save your daughter's life. I can't offer you anything more." And that was that. Mrs. Lovat would not evict them, understanding their situation, only presenting them with a choice: Risk everything to ensure Coraline's safety, or risk their daughter for their jobs and their home, and their lifestyle. Mel was internally torn; her skeptical side once again tried to tell her that it was all in her head, that she was once again being paranoid, and that there was nothing to worry about. But the other part of her, that which was governed by motherly instinct, told her that she should put as much distance between her family and this house as possible, if that would even be enough.

In the end, it didn't matter. She never had the chance to make that decision.

She'd woken up one morning with the intention of bringing both Charlie and Coraline down to the kitchen to talk it over, to share her concerns with her husband and discuss their options. All she needed to do was confront Coraline with what she knew, and get her to open up; Charlie was a bit more open-minded than his wife, he would be easy enough to convince once he heard what they both had to say.

But when Mel had gone into her daughter's room that morning to wake her, she wasn't there. Vanished without a trace. Her room was undisturbed, everything exactly the way she had left it the previous night, nothing missing to suggest that she had run away, no signs of intrusion or a struggle to indicate that she had been kidnapped. She was simply gone.

She did everything she could think off. She notified the police. She put up fliers. She joined the police in combing up and down the countryside, looking for her child.

Then she checked the little door in the living room.

It was unlocked. But there was nothing on the other side. Only a brick wall, same as before. The key was missing from the spot she'd hung it in the kitchen.

It was very clear at that point just what had happened, the only question was how. But Mel didn't want to believe it. It was easier to believe that Coraline had run away, or had been kidnapped for ransom by some cutthroat. Believing such would mean there was a chance, however slim, that her daughter could be found. That she would come home. And so Mel Jones remained in denial. She would remain in denial for two years, before it became clear.

Coraline would come back. But not on her own. If Mel wanted her back, then she would have to be willing to believe anything - and do anything - to bring her home.

And that's exactly what she was going to do.

* * *

**Up next: Chapter 2, _Starting Block..._**

**AN: Minor update. Chapter 6 is still in-progress as of 12/17/2012, but close to completion, at which I'll be ready to upload and edit it before I post it. I'm also going through the previous chapters to correct a few errors; I noticed a few minor screw-ups when re-reading these.**


	2. 02: Starting Block

**Author's Notes: And here is chapter 2. I'm taking things slow this time around, giving each chapter a good once-over before posting, correcting spelling and grammar mistakes, making small impovement here and there... I really want to see this story through to the end, especially after my last attempt at a multi-chaptered fic ended in failure. As the title implies, this is the very beginning of Mel Jone's seemingly impossible task of breaching the gates of Hell (or whatever plane of existance the Beldam calls home), as well as her coping with the loss of her daughter.**

**I don't see this aspect of the story explored enough in Coraline fan-fiction. I see a lot of Coraline x Wybie fics, but not a whole lot focused on the relationship between Coraline and her mother, which I believe is a much more important aspect of the plot. Mel and Charlie's neglect is what drives Coraline into the Other Mother's arms. And before the buttons, Coraline was willing to consider leaving her parents forever to stay in the other world.**

**Anyway, back to the story. Read and review.**

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**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 2, _Starting Block_**

Mel knew she was probably in way over her head. For all she knew, her daughter could have been taken by Satan himself, her soul locked away in the fiery depths of hell, guarded by the denizens of the underworld (or something like that). To try and go after her could very well be a suicidal venture, but finding her at all was going to be next to impossible.

She didn't care.

When Mel Jones put her mind to something, she didn't give up on it easily. She was going to find Coraline or die trying, if it came to that. But she wasn't go to live on the rest of her life, grow old wondering what had happened to her little girl without ever knowing the answer. And she couldn't live with herself if she didn't do everything possible to find her and bring her back, anyway. The question was; where to begin?

Her only help was Mrs. Lovat, and she didn't seem to know any more than Coraline had told her, which wasn't much. The old landlady was finally willing to give Mel the full story, but it didn't tell her much more than she had already known. According to Mrs. Lovat, Coraline had ventured into the "Other World" on the other side of the little door more than once, at first believing it to be a dream, just as her sister had. There, her "Other Mother", the doppelganger of Mel Jones with black buttons for eyes, preyed on her most petty and selfish desires, catering to her every whim. She'd put on fantastical displays for her, from the magic garden with exotic, luminous plants to a grand theatre in the basement where the button-eyed duplicates of Ms. Spink and Ms. Forcible had put on an astounding musical production, to Mr. Bobinsky's amazing jumping mouse circus in the attic apartment above. For Coraline, a dream come true, or so it seemed.

Mrs. Lovat had said that Coraline eventually discovered that the Other World was not a dream, and that she would be allowed to stay there forever on one condition; that her so-called "Other Mother" would be allowed to sew buttons into her eyes. This was how the doppelganger ensnared he souls of her victims, or so Coraline had told the elderly landlady. When she realized this, she had tried to escape, and ended up stumbling across the ghosts of the other children the Other Mother had taken; including the landlady's long-lost twin sister, trapped in a prison concealed behind the mirror at the end of the hallway. In the end, Coraline had absconded with the eyes of the ghost children, which had been taken and hidden away, and were the source of the witch's power and life. Coraline had assumed that this would mean the end of the old witch, but it seemed she'd been wrong.

While Mrs. Lovat's tale helped to fill in the blanks, it didn't tell her how to get to the Other World to find her daughter. That was her first obstacle; getting passed the door. It appeared bricked shut whenever she opened it; it seemed that the Other Mother would only reveal the entrance to those she wished to enter. Somehow, she didn't think bashing through the wall with a sledgehammer would be enough.

As a woman of the 21st century, her first instinct in searching for information was the internet. She was to be disappointed, however; her first few hours scouring the web at the kitchen table with her laptop had yielded nothing. All she found was an article on the town of Ashland itself, which contained only a brief mention of the Pink Palace and the disappearances that had taken place over the past 150 years, but nothing useful. She tried searching for articles on supernatural beings; this gave her some insight into the origins of superstitions regarding witches, vampires, werewolves, magic and curses, and all other sorts of supernatural abominations that mankind had dreamed up over the centuries. Products of simple misunderstandings that could now be easily explained away through modern science and logic.

She also looked into the stories and legends of ancient gods from various cultures, but nothing matched the creature that Mrs. Lovat had described. It occurred to her that gods were whatever they wanted to be (or so she had heard in Ghostbusters), there for it could very have changed it's form multiple times throughout history. A most clever tactic, if it were true, as that would mean it could not be easily identified by anyone who would attempt to hunt it down.

Mel eventually dismissed the possibility of it being a god of any kind; if it had to devour the souls of mortals to stay alive, then it wasn't truly immortal, and there for it could not be a god. It had to be a supernatural creature of some kind, and if there was no mention of it in history, then it was perhaps a unique entity. There was also the possibility that it had only manifested recently, as in the past 150 years, and had managed to operate largely undetected during that whole time. In other words, Mel was not going to find any useful information searching the internet, especially when half of modern society disregarded the supernatural as a product pure myth. And so Mel found herself back at square one.

For nearly a year she continued her search for answers, on and off. She began making trips to the public library in search of anything that could help; old records, newspapers, magazines, anything that might give her a clue as to where to begin, but there was nothing. She came across articles on the three missing children in the old newspapers, but they contained no helpful information. There was an old magazine with an article referring to the Pink Palace and how it was supposedly haunted by some demonic spirit; but when Mel read it, she quickly learned that the writer didn't know anything about what had actually occurred within the house. What the writer described sounded like something out a teen slasher flick, about a horrible monster that lived in  
the house and preyed upon beautiful young women. When the article made no mention whatsoever of the actual disappearances that had led her to this, it became obvious that the article was completely made up, and she had tossed it aside.

Her search continued. After suffering a disappointment in her search for answers, she would distract herself by working on the latest issue of the catalogue with Charlie, continuing with their efforts to restore the old house, but mostly working in the garden. She still wasn't sure she enjoyed the activity, being out in the hot sun and digging in the dirt, with little insects buzzing around her because _apparently _they couldn't find a better place to land then on the back of her sunburned neck, but she'd felt drawn to it. Coraline had always loved gardening, and for Mel, engaging in the activity made her feel closer to her daughter, as close as she could be when they were probably separated by dimensions of space and time.

After spending hours outside in the sun and dirt, she would retire to the cool sanctuary of her kitchen, grab her laptop, and return to her research with renewed determination. Sometimes she'd order books online or make another trip down to the library if she was having no luck on the computer. When all her efforts led her to one dead-end after another, she would take another break, and the cycle would begin again.

Then, something happened that she hadn't accounted for; her husband began to take notice of her efforts.

Mel Jones was currently seated at the kitchen table, that which was strewn about with her research; dusty leather-bound tomes she had picked up at the library, old census records, documents dating back to when Ashland was first settled, yellowed photographs of the areas earliest residents and the Pink Palace itself, before it had even been called such; books on the supernatural she had ordered online, computer print-outs of articles on gods, worship, and ancient mythology... among other things. Her laptop was perched atop of a mound of library books, a cup of stale coffee teetering precariously on the edge of the table... and then there was Mel, still in the same clothes she had worn the previous day, her hair a mess, with dark circles under her eyes.

In her desperation, Mel would often stay up through the night tearing through books and scouring the web in her seemingly hopeless quest. At first, Charlie hadn't paid much attention, but after a year of watching her obsessively tearing through books, he couldn't help but be concerned for his wife and her sanity.

"Mel... honey?"

Mel was so absorbed in her research that she didn't notice him at first. She'd thought she stumbled across a lead; a brief mention of supposed witch-hunters operating during the 15th century, that which she was intent on following up on in the hope that it could lead her to... something. Anything, the smallest clue, the slightest hint, something that could give her some real hope of success. It had occurred to her that whatever she was hunting couldn't be found if it did not wish to be, and that stray thought had put a significant damper on her moral. But, if she could just-

_"Mel!"_

_"What?"_ She snapped, slamming her palm on the table in aggravation. The cup of stale coffee was rattled slightly by this action, causing to edge just a tiny bit closer to the edge of the table, all the more in danger of falling to the floor and shattering. Charlie took a cautious step backward as his wife glared up at him for daring to disturb her thoughts, as though afraid her piercing glare would turn him to ash. No doubt given the fact that she was suffering from stress, paranoia, lack of sleep, and high on caffeine, Mel was an extremely dangerous woman to cross at that particular moment.

"I just... you... you never came to bed. Were you... up all night?" He asked, obvious concern in his voice.

Mel sighed, and looked at the clock on her laptop monitor; it currently displayed 6:15 AM. Last she had checked, it had said 8:33 PM, that had been the time she'd gotten home the previous night.

"I guess... I must have lost track of time..." she replied, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"What is all this?" Asked Charlie. For a moment, Mel didn't answer. She had never told Charlie what she'd believed had happened to Coraline, or that she was essentially planning a one-woman assault on Hell itself. He may have been more open-minded than her, but even he would think that his wife was crazy if she told him what she'd been working towards for the past several months.

"Just... doing some research?" She replied weakly, unsure how to explain her current state to her husband. Charlie picked up one of the books on the table (Ghostbusting for Dummies) and then turned his eyes to the rest of the clutter on the kitchen table, his eyes scanning over the disorderly panoply of unusual titles, weathered documents, and yellowed photographs. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Since when are you into this supernatural stuff?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Mel hung her head, embarrassed. The way she figured, she was going to have to tell him one way or another. Especially if was going to go through with this... even if she found what she was looking for, there was a good chance she wouldn't be coming back. Though considering the nature of her pursuit, her personal safety was the least of her worries.

"Charlie... can I ask for your opinion on something?" She inquired.

"Of course. What...?"

"What if I told you..." she began, cutting him off. She paused to take a deep breath. "...what if I told you that I though there was more to Coraline disappearing?" At this point, Charlie was giving her his full attention. He had tried not to think about it much. Thinking about it his little girl, and the fact that she was probably gone forever, that she had been listed as a "cold case" by the authorities, was much too painful for him. For nearly two years, he had tried to pretend as though nothing had happened, remaining firmly in denial, to spare himself that pain. What else could he do?

When Charlie did not immediately answer her, she chose to continue. "What if I told you that... _something _had stolen her from us?" There was an awkward silence following this statement.

"Some... _thing?_" He responded, in his mind putting two and two together. "Are you saying you think she was taken by a...?"

"-I don't know," she responded hastily, cutting him off yet again. "I've heard things... about other children that lived in this house before, that disappeared long ago, just like she did."

There was a long pause.

"Okay... but what makes you think-?"

"_The dreams_, Charlie. You remember the dreams she told us about? About her "Other Parents", and the world on the other side of the door in our living room?"

Charlie did not answer, unsure as to where his wife was going with this, merely giving her a puzzled look.

"The other children all had the same dreams. Right before they disappeared." She revealed. Charlie didn't look very convinced.

"How could you know that?" He asked.

"Mrs. Lovat. Her sister was one of the children that vanished, when they were children. She told me she'd been having the same dreams. And I've done my homework-" she gestured at the clutter on the table. "There were two others before her. They all told their parents about the same dreams. And they all disappeared."

"Well, that is strange, but-"

"Do you honestly believe that could possibly be a coincidence?" She asserted.

Charlie remained silent for nearly a full minute.

"No, I suppose not, if what you're saying is true..." he began. "But what exactly are you hoping to accomplish with all of this?" He gestured at the mound of her research on kitchen table.

Mel paused. This was the part she was most worried about; about telling her husband about just how far she was willing to go, to find more than closure, but to take back what was stolen from her. For a moment, she did not answer; instead she circled around the table to stare down at her laptop, and the article on witch-hunting that she had been immersed in before Charlie's interruption, still upon the monitor.

"Whatever stole Coraline from me is still in this house."

Charlie was looking a bit nervous, and also puzzled. Her beating around the bush was confusing him, but as his mind put everything laid out before it together, he was beginning to catch on to her plans, and he was no doubt hoping he was wrong.

"So... do you want to have an exorcism? Or a hire a psychic?" He suggested.

Mel laughed half-heartedly at her husband's suggestion, shaking her head. "A _psychic_, Charlie? You think I want to pay some performer to come to my house, and put on some pathetic display to try and make me feel better?" She scoffed.

"You know, considering what you've uncovered, maybe you should be a little more open-minded?" Charlie supplied. Mel rolled her eyes. She wasn't so sure about how many 'psychics' existed in the world, if any, and as for having an exorcism... well, she wasn't the overly religious type, and she was quite certain that priests weren't any different from the so-called psychics in that all they did was put on a show to make people feel better, for those who believed their houses to be haunted.

"I'll admit, I would have never thought anything like this could happen to me, much less anyone else. If you'd told me a few years ago that I was going to move into a haunted house, and my daughter would be stolen by an evil spirit, I would have suggested you check into a mental hospital," Mel stated. "But I don't just take anything at face value. I don't know if psychics really exist, but even if they did, I don't think they could bring Coraline back." She stopped. This was it.

"What do you mean, 'bring her back'? You don't think you can actually-"

"Charlie," Mel interrupted. "I need you to listen to me."

"Our little girl is still out there..." Mel began; she turned her gaze to the screen of her laptop in an attempt to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. "I know she's still alive. I know I can bring her back... All I have to do is find a way through the door, and I may have a chance to bring her home."

Charlie's eyes widened as he realized what his wife was telling him, what she planned to do. For the longest time, he said nothing. He would not look her in the eye, but she could see the doubt evident on his face.

"Honey..."

"Charlie-"

"No please, listen," he begged. "Even if what you believe is true, what you're thinking of doing is crazy. You have no idea what's on the other side of that door. You could-" He stopped, unable to say it, to voice his greatest fear. Mel understood. With Coraline gone, they only had each other. If Mel went ahead with her plan, and if she didn't come back... he would be left all alone.

"I have to try, don't I?" She responded, after a long silence. "If I don't do everything I can to bring her back, I'll never be able to live with myself."

Charlie nodded in understanding, knowing he could say nothing else to dissuade her.

"If I find a way... do you want to come with me?" Mel asked her husband. "I think I may have found a lead..."

Charlie looked as though he was going to answer for a moment, but then he paused, as if in thought. Then he sighed, and hung his head disappointedly.

"No, I... I can't. Not now, anyway," he replied regretfully. Mel proceeded to ask him why, surprised by his answer.

"I forgot to tell you last night... I have to go back to Pontiac for a while, to visit my mother."

"Your _mother_?" Mel asked in disbelief. Her mother-in-law was not a very pleasant woman, least of all to her. The elderly Mrs. Jones was a very callous, spiteful, and bitter old woman, and she didn't make a great effort to hide the fact that she loathed having to call Mel her 'daughter-in-law'. It was because of Charlie, really; he was named after his father, who had left his mother not long after he was born and never came back, thus she had always been rather bitter and resentful towards her youngest son. She was jealous of him and his wife, the fact that they were happy when _her_ marriage had been nothing but misery, and had regularly suggested that Mel wasn't entirely faithful to her son, and had often called Coraline a 'bastard'. Indeed, when Coraline had first disappeared, Mel had overheard a conversation between Charlie and his mother on the phone; during which her mother-in-law had made repeated assertions that Coraline had actually run away to find her 'real father' before Charlie had (politely as he possibly could) hung up on her.

"Well... yes." He replied. "She's very sick, so I'm going to have to go down there and... take care of her for a couple of weeks."

"Can't your brother take care of that?" Charlie's brother wasn't much better; in their mother's eyes, the eldest of the Jones brothers was Mr. Perfect, a successful businessman with a beautiful wife and three children, and most importantly, he didn't share her ex-husband's first name.

"Well, he's really busy, and-"

_Of course he is_, Mel thought, rolling her eyes yet again. Mr. Perfect seemed perfectly content with never having to speak to his dear mother again. Not that it made a difference to her mother-in-law who, who was far too arrogant to admit she was wrong, much less admit that Charlie was a better son in the fact that he still cared about her, despite the way she'd treated him.

"...and I know how you feel about her. But she's still my mom, and I have to be there to help, especially if... well, you know." Charlie finished lamely, unaware that his wife had tuned out.

"Honey?"

"You know what, never mind. Tell you what..." Mel took her seat back at the table, returning her focus to her laptop monitor. "You go on back to Pontiac and take care of the old bat. And I'll make sure your real family is here to welcome you when you get back. Deal?"

Charlie hesitated for a moment. "Maybe I should just stay here..."

"It's fine, Charlie. Go on. I know you'll beat yourself up if anything should happen to my _dearest_ mother-in-law." She countered, sarcasm evident in her voice as she spoke of that vile woman. Charlie still appeared concerned, and Mel would have wondered for a moment if his mother was starting to get to him, if she thought he was that stupid. Suffice to say, she regularly saw fit to remind him that she was his wife first, and his boss second.

_"I'll be fine. Just go."  
_

* * *

Later that night, a cab was waiting out front of the Pink Palace Apartments, and Charlie was all packed for his trip back to Michigan. Mel was there to kiss him goodbye and wish him a safe trip, and to reassure him one last time.

"Coraline and I will be waiting for you when you get back, Charlie. I promise."

He'd silently acknowledged this statement with a mere nod before embracing her again, before he stepped out the door. She wasn't entirely sure if he believed her; his expression had been unreadable. It didn't matter. One way or another, she was going to keep her promise. In that, she was determined.

_I won't let you down.  
_

* * *

**Up next: Chapter 3, _Breaking and Entering..._**


	3. 03: Breaking and Entering

**Author's Note: An update! Here's my longest chapter yet. This chapter was difficult to put together; I had to redo it a few times before I was satisfied. I think it turned out alright... but I would still very much appreciate critique for this one. There was a bit of a side-story to tell that is somewhat relevant to later chapters, I was kind of stuck on how best to tell it. You let me no how well I did (or if I royally screwed up).**

**There hasn't been a whole lot of Coraline herself up to this point, but I assure you she will appear in the next chapter. The Cat will most likely have a role to play as well... and I want to flesh him out a little bit, too. Not with some overly elaborate tale like this, but just explain where he came from, what happened to him, how he knows so much about the Other World. That was never made clear in the movie.**

**This chapter is only the first step in Mel's journey into the Other World. Stay with me. Read and review.**

* * *

**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 3,** _**Breaking and Entering**_

It was late in the afternoon the next day when Mel Jones strode into a shady pub in downtown Ashland.

Outside it was bleak, grey, and damp, as was typical for the area. It wasn't much better inside the small tavern. Inside, it was almost deserted, save for a few grubby-looking patrons, one a grizzled, ancient-looking man in a dark raincoat seated at the bar, drinking his cares away, with the look of man who had seen far too much in one lifetime; there were three other men at a table in the corner, conversing in hushed tones and hidden away in the shadows so Mel could not make any of them out. Then there was the bartender, a young man in his early 20s, inconspicuously sweeping the bar with a wash rag, every few seconds casting a nervous glance towards the trio huddled in the corner, while ignoring the grizzled drunk at the bar, who was too busy staring  
at the bottom of his empty glass with a mournful, tormented gaze to care.

This was where Mel's research had led her. It seemed to fit; for a retired navy officer who'd also secretly hunted down those who practiced the dark arts for most of his life, a secluded place like this would be an ideal sanctuary, considering the enemies one of his profession could've made.

His name was Harland Crowe, a former Major in the U.S. Navy Marines who had spent is later years pursuing a far more... unusual career, according to Mel's source. She didn't have a great deal of information on him; the article she stumbled across on witch-hunting had been very brief and vague. All she had was his name, his supposed career history, and his current location, which just happened to be right here in Ashland.

Mel believed that this was no coincidence. That a supposed hunter of the supernatural just happened to be so close by... did he know about the rumors surrounding the Pink Palace and the disappearances? Could he perhaps have heard of Coraline? Her daughter's disappearance had been something of a hot topic on TV and in the newspapers for a while, surely he would've caught wind of it...

It wasn't much, but this was the only lead Mel could find after months of research. She was out of options. If this man didn't have answers for her, if he didn't know anything about the creature that had stolen her daughter, she didn't know where else she could look. She couldn't afford to write him off until she at least spoke to him. And so she had come here, and hopefully in this dark little corner of Ashland she would find the answers she had been so desperately seeking. She approached the bar.

"Excuse me...?" She said to the young bartender, who jumped; he had been somewhat focused on the three suspicious men in the corner, and thus hadn't noticed when she walked in. He turned his attention away from the shady trio to his unexpected visitor, looking nervous.

"O-oh. C-can I help you...?" He asked, stuttering slightly. Mel raised an eyebrow, wondering what had the boy so on edge. Most likely it was his current work enviroment, or perhaps the three patrons in the corner; whatever the subject of their discussion, she doubted it was legal. Perhaps he'd been listening a little too closely to their conversation... Mel couldn't concern herself with such things, though. She had come here with a specific purpose.

"I'm looking for someone," Mel stated. The boy looked around furtively; one of the men in the corner had broken away from his conversation with the other two, one eye trained on Mel. She lowered her voice, preferring not to be overheard. Just in case.

"Uhhh... his name is Harland. I was led to believe he'd rented a room here...?" She inquired. The boy shook his head quickly.

"I-I don't know anybody named Harland having, uhhh... rented a room here at the inn," he replied. "You must have the wrong place..."

"What? No... this is the right address," Mel responded. "His name is Harland Crowe. He came to town about six moths ago...? He used to be in the Marines-"

"I-I already told you," the bartender retorted, appearing more nervous, once again glancing in the direction of the shady patrons at the corner table. The one who had observed them earlier had returned to conversing in hushed tones with the other two, no longer showing any interest in the scene taking place at the bar.

"T-there's no one name Harland or Crowe or whatever here. Y-you have the wrong place," he finished. "Now, uhhh... c-could you please leave?"

Mel raised an eyebrow at the bartender, confused by his strange behavior. She could tell he was lying to her; but why? What was making him so nervous?

"Listen," she began, her voice a mere whisper. "You don't understand; if the Major is here, I desperately need to speak to him. You see, my name is Mel Jones-"

_"I know who you are! Keep your voice down!" _He said through clenched teeth, sweat pouring down his pallid face, looking as though her were about to have a heart attack. He kept looking towards the men at the corner table, to the drunkard at the bar, then back at her, then at a flight of stairs behind the bar she assumed led to the basement...

Mel was keeping her voice as low as possible, and was about to retort when the boy shook his head vigorously, then jerked his head towards the corner table. All three patrons had ceased their conversation, and had their eyes trained on the bar, observing intently the interaction between her and the bartender.

_They're watching us_, she realized. Who were they? What were they doing here? Could they be looking for the Major as well? As a dozen questions raced through Mel's mind as she tried to understand what exactly she had gotten herself into, she noticed something about the three shady characters.

All three were wearing sunglasses.

That's when it hit her, and an old memory bubbled up to the surface of her mind...

_"It was incredibly real, Mom! Only you weren't really you, you were my _Other Mother_..."_

_**"Buttons for eyes, huh?** Coraline you only _dreamed_ you ate all that chicken... take your multivitamin, at least..."_

_She knows._

Before she had time to process what exactly was going on, several things seemed to happen all at once; first, one of the shady patrons got up from his seat, his two companions about to follow suit... then, the grizzled, seemingly drunken man at the bar whirled around, drawing from within the folds of his dark raincoat a sleek, jet-black .44 magnum revolver, and opened fire upon the trio; the first one to get up took two bullets in the chest, stumbling backwards and collapsing to the floor. The other two thrust their hands into their coats with the obvious intention of drawing their own weapons, but barely had the chance when two additional shots rang out; the first bullet catching one in the center of his forehead, the other taking a round to the heart, collapsing next to his two companions, a dark 9mm automatic tumbling from his grasp as he hit the floor.

Mel was frozen to the spot, her mind trying to process what had just happened. The supposed drunkard that had been sitting at the bar; the grizzled, ancient man with sleek gray hair, in a dark raincoat, the revolver still in his hand and trained on the bodies of the three men at the corner table; the bar boy, cowering behind the counter, daring to stick his head up to see if it was safe; the three shady patrons in the corner, one slumped over the table, his pistol lying on the floor, the other two lying face-down in pools of their own-

Wait a minute...

Mel did a double-take, narrowing her eyes at the massacred trio on the floor, and noticed something was very wrong.

_There's no blood._

At that point, the man lowered his gun and turned to face her, looking upon her with steel-grey eyes.

"Sorry about that. I'm afraid you happened upon me at a bad time," he apologized. It took Mel a moment for Mel to realize who she had just happened upon.

"You're Harland?" She asked. The man nodded.

""Why- how- who were those men?" She stuttered, her eyes darting back and forth between the man and the bodies.

The Major shook his head. "Those weren't 'men'. Not quite. Something..." he stepped over to the bodies. "...different."

Mel followed him to where he stood over the bloodless corpses, confused. Harland knelt to one of the men on the floor, and rolled him over so that he was face-up.

Mel gasped.

The man's sunglasses had fallen off, and where there should have been eyes on a normal human, there were only a pair of large, black buttons. She had suspected it, but seeing it with her own eyes... Mel also noticed the bullet holes in his chest where Harland had shot him, and that there was no blood, but rather what looked like sawdust pouring from the wound and onto the floor.

"It's a..." She wasn't sure what word to use.

"A fake?" Harland supplied. "An imposter? A puppet? Yes."

"I suppose those would fit..." Mel replied weakly, wiping sweat off her brow, still recovering from the shock of what she'd just witnessed.

"Somehow, _she_ found out I was in the area. I noticed these three," he gestured at the bodies, "...following me a few days ago. I managed to give them the slip, but they eventually tracked me down. It wasn't until _you_ walked in the door that I was certain of just who- or _what_, they were."

"What do you mean?" Mel asked. Harland did not immediately answer her; instead, he beckoned for the bartender, and moved to grab the puppet-mans arms.

"I'll tell you more downstairs. But for now, help me with these. We can't just leave these three lying out in the open like this," was his response. Mel nodded and obeyed, moving to grab the puppet-mans feet; with Harland holding his arms, they lifted him off the floor, sawdust trickling from his wounds and onto the hardwood as they carried him to the stairs that led to the basement, the bar boy right behind them, dragging the other two by their feet.

* * *

The basement was what Mel could only assume was some kind of workshop, as well as Harland's home. As they hauled the three bodies downstairs one at a time, Mel took note of her surroundings; there was a rusty old bullet press in the corner surrounded by a number of cardboard boxes of primer, casings, and other materials for crafting ammunition. Above the mantle in the center of the main room, a dirty and rusted old Kalashnikov was mounted on the wall, above a panoply of religious tokens resting on the mantle itself. Above that, resting on a plaque, an ornate iron longsword of Chinese design. A combat shotgun lay in pieces on a workbench near the bullet press, tools scattered haphazardly around it amidst the weapons various components, as if he had been in the process of repairing it.

A small bed was positioned just opposite the door, another magnum identical to the one Harland had just used poking out from under the pillow. Next to that, a small dresser, on top of which were several framed, yellowed photographs of what she assumed were Harland's ancestors, as all depicted rugged-looking men and women decked out in traveling garb, with bandoliers, scabbards, and pistol belts and all wielding a variety of guns, swords, knives, and axes.

They deposited the bodies of the three puppet-men onto a long table in the center of the room, which was littered with a number of surgical implements, scraps of fabric and what looked like the same kind of synthetic flesh that the puppets were made of, among piles of sawdust. The bar boy had collected their weapons, which he gave to Harland, who proceeded to unload them and toss the guns and their magazines into a bin in the corner filled with broken revolvers and automatics.

"Well, now that that's taken care of," the Major began. "...I assume you have questions for me."

Mel nodded. "What _are_ those _things_?" She asked, pointing at the bodies.

"I think you can guess," Harland replied. "These were her spies. They've been following me for days." He paused. "I don't know how they got here, but I assume they must have come from out of town. There's no way they could have come through the door in the Pink Palace without someone noticing."

"You mean they work for... for the 'Other Mother'?" She asked. Harland nodded.

"_The Other Mother_... yes, that's what she always called herself, when she presented herself to her victims. Or so I've heard."

Mel raised an eyebrow. "What exactly is she?"

"A witch. A unique type of necromancer, to be exact," he informed.

"You mean... she's human?"

Harland paused and scratched his chin for a moment, thinking before answering.

"No. Not quite. Not anymore, at least... but yes, a long time ago. I think..." He finally replied. He turned away from the table and stepped toward a weathered old map on the wall nearby. She noticed that he'd marked several places across the globe with a panoply of red, yellow, and blue pins. He surveyed the map quietly for a moment, saying nothing. Mel could see that the pins were spread all across the surface of the map, over all the corners of the globe. He had scribbled down dates, names, and places next to many of them, and Mel could see from his notes that his profession went back several centuries (a family tradition, according to her information). From the look of things, there was a lot more going on than she had known, and no doubt a long story to be told.

At last, Harland turned his focus back to her.

"This will require some... explanation."

* * *

The Major's story was a long one that stretched back over five-hundred years, and began with his great-great-grandmother, whom had started what would become the family tradition of feromancy.

The art of forging weapons from the purest of iron and silver, for the purpose of slaying those who had been corrupted by the dark arts.

Her name had been Natalia. Crowe's great-great-grandmother. It was she who had first to become aware of a presence at the old manor in England, that which her wealthy and noble family called home. It had started with her younger brother; the only heir to her father's fortune. A boy of 12 years at the beginning, he had never cared much for his father's titles, his position, or even his wealth; but rather had often entertained the notion of becoming an explorer, traveling to far away places, exotic lands, in search of treasure, finding his own wealth, or unearthing the remains of long forgotten civilizations.

He would get his wish. But not in the way he expected. For his wishes would be granted by the very same creature that had stolen Coraline from her. The one that had evaded Harland and all his ancestors for nearly 500 years. The Other Mother.

The Beldam.

Natalia and her parents would soon hear from the young heir of the fantastical dream he'd had of exploring the world with his 'Other Mother', who would take him to far off exotic lands where he would uncover ancient treasures, encounter primitive civilizations, and battle dastardly villains. It sounded like he'd been living some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy, a dream come true. His parents would dismiss the dreams as a product of his overactive imagination, typical for a boy his age. But Natalia had known better. Indeed, she had known from the beginning that something was very wrong. For each night he experienced these dreams, Natalia's younger brother would vanish from his bedroom and did not reappear until dawn, unbeknownst to her parents. She knew that these were no mere dreams. Instinct told her that something was wrong, that there was more going on. She'd tried to explain her concerns to her mother and father, to no avail. They had scoffed at her, calling her as imaginative as her younger sibling.

She had even expressed her concerns to her brother, tried to convince him not to go to his Other Mother again, who supposedly lurked behind a little door in the cellar. He too had scoffed at her, for he was young and stupid, ignorant of the potential danger.

No one had ever listened to her. Not even when her brother didn't come back.

It was assumed that he'd run away; the noblemen sent out search parties to look for him, and found no trace. All of his belongings had been left behind, his room was undisturbed. The guards at the family estate hadn't seen anyone enter, nor had they seen the young master leave. No demands for ransom were made, and thus they ruled out kidnapping. What nobody had noticed, was that the little door in the cellar had been left ajar. Except for Natalia. Natalia's parents refused to believe her assertions that their son had been taken by a witch, that this 'Other Mother' could possibly be real. It was easier for them to assume he had simply run away... it would mean there was a chance he would come back. But, of course... he never did.

It would be thirty years before she uncovered the truth, Harland explained. After Natalia married, inherited her father's estate, and had children of her own. For history would soon repeat itself when her youngest son would vanish at the age of 7, under the exact same circumstances. First, the incredible dreams about the Other Mother who fulfilled his greatest desires. The nightly disappearances, the tales of the fantastical world behind the little door in the cellar. Then finally, he too vanished without a trace.

It was just like Mrs. Lovat had said. One odd thing was believable. Two was no coincidence. And so Natalia began her search for answers, just as Mel had. After five more years of searching, she found them. She had gone through the little door, and found the long-lost souls of both her son and her little brother, locked away in a darkened cell hidden behind a mirror in the beldams chambers.

But the beldam herself was nowhere to found. Natalia had been prepared to fight her for the freedom of her brother and son with a sabre of purest iron, forged for her by an old feromancer in London. But the beldam; the creature that called herself the Other Mother, feared the art of feromancy, and fled when she became aware of the intruder in her domain, leaving all the souls she had stolen behind. Like Coraline, Natalia assumed that the Other Mother would not survive long without the eyes of the ghost children to sustain her.

She was wrong.

Fifty years passed. Her eldest son had taken up Natalia's newfound profession. In Berlin, he found her again, the beldam, the one who had preyed upon the youngest of their family estate all those years ago. He'd stumbled across her as she hunted the impoverished youth of the city; those who would not be missed. Like his mother had done before, he found the vile witch's lair, and forced his way in with intent of reclaiming the eyes of the children she had stolen. Though he was successful in retrieving the eyes, the beldam herself was long since gone; she'd escaped once again.

And so the pursuit began. From Berlin, Harland's ancestors tracked her to Normandy in France, where she eluded them yet again. Harland pointed out each of the blue pins on the map as he told his tale; these indicated lairs that they had cleared, but in which the beldam that resided there had fled. There were very few, and fewer still were a handful of yellow pins, places he suspected to be the lairs of beldams. And there were red pins, covering the majority of the world map, marking lairs where the ancient witches had met their ends at the hands of feromancers, like Harland and his family. It seemed that they'd been hunted to the brink of extinction.

Their weakness lay not only in pure iron, but also their isolation; beldams like the Other Mother were selfish creatures by nature, and not compelled to cooperate under any circumstances. On top of that, the dark arts that made had them what they were had long since been lost to history, and so their numbers dwindled as the centuries passed. Many were not even aware that others existed, that others had mastered the same dark magic and preyed on children as they did. Those few that remained typically chose the disparate warring nations of the Third World as their hunting grounds, where they could operate completely undetected amidst the chaos of anarchy, revolution, and civil war.

Except for one.

When the Other Mother fled Normandy, she returned to England, and spent several decades preying on the poor children on the streets of London, as she had done in Berlin. When Harland's grandfather tracked her down, it became clear that she'd run out of continent. Forced to abandon her lair and her captures yet again, she fled across the sea, to New York. When the Crowe's followed, she fled south, to Philadelphia. From Philadelphia, to Chicago. Until the trail ended at New Orleans, where she would flee once more, and Harland's grandfather mistakenly assumed that the Other Mother was headed south. Which was exactly what she wanted him to think. She had eluded them for more than 150 years, hidden away in the hills, preying on the children of those who would try to claim the old, pink house as their home.

But now, it was too late. For Crowe, at least. He had been retired for some time, and though he could handle a few of her puppet-men servants, he was in no shape to carry out an assault on her lair. His apprentice, the bartender whom she had come to learn was named Jerome, was in no way prepared to handle something like this, especially when there was so much at stake; for the first time in Harland's family history, there was a chance of bringing a stolen child back alive. Coraline would not give into the Other Mother, that much was certain; it would only bring her a fate worse than death, and she knew it. But at the same time, the beldam could not take her eyes, and thus her soul, unless she gave them willingly.

But if she was to get home safely, there was only one person who could bring her back.

"Why not your apprentice?" Mel asked. Harland shook his head.

"I already told you, he's useless. All bravado, no brains, when he first came to me. Ironically, a bit of a coward, as you no doubt noticed. You, on the other hand..."

"I have no more experience in these matters than he does," she protested.

"True. But you also have some things he doesn't," Harland retorted.

"Such as?" Mel inquired, folding her arms.

Harland was standing over the bullet press, that which had come back to life and was churning out pure-iron bullets, called 'feroshot'. He turned around to face her before he answered.

"_Determination._ Courage. Resourcefulness," was his answer. "You know exactly what you're getting into. You didn't come here to hire me. You came here to find out how to get your daughter back. I could tell when you walked in that you fully intended to accomplish this by yourself, if you had to."

"Some would simply say you're crazy. Desperate. Delusional," he continued. "But I can tell the difference; your confidence is born of courage, not desperation. Am I wrong?"

Mel did not answer for a moment. She had never heard someone speak of her this way, as though she were some kind of hero. She was the editor for a gardening catalogue, a wife and a mother. She would have never considered describing herself as a warrior, a hunter, or anything of the sort (though Charlie would probably say otherwise; she used to beat him up for lunch money, after all). The truth was...

"I just couldn't go on..."she began, "...knowing that my little girl is out there, and that I didn't do everything in my power to bring her back."

"Such is your resolve," Harland replied with admiration. "My great-grandmother was no different than you, at the beginning... and she came back."

Mel merely nodded in acknowledgement. She stood on the precipice, closer than she had ever thought she would get. She had an oppurtunity to find her daughter and bring her back. She could actually keep her promise to her husband. It wouldn't be easy, that much was certain... but she could do it. She had to. For Coraline. For Charlie. For herself. Her mind was made up.

"What do I have to do?"

* * *

Her mission had three objectives. Find Coraline. Find the eyes of the ghost children. And make sure that the Other Mother didn't escape this time.

"She won't be expecting you." Harland had said. "As their numbers have dwindled, so have ours. She sent those puppets to eliminate me to simply tie up a loose end. She doesn't know you've contacted me. You have the element of surprise."

This also meant she was unlikely to flee this time. No doubt she would underestimate Mel Jones, just as she had Natalia. And after 500 years, she would be tired of running. The fact that the Other Mother had sent her minions to kill Harland was clear evidence that she was intent on taking a stand here.

Harland could provide Mel with the tools and the information she needed; the rest would be up to her. He was certain that the beldam had taken other children in the past two years, after Coraline freed her previous victims. It was the only way she could still be alive, especially when Coraline refused to submit. Unbeknownst to Mel, there had been a number of strange disappearances in other parts of the country as well; in New Orleans, Chicago, Philadelphia, and New York. It seemed she had re-opened the doors to her old lairs, expanded her realm, and drawn in more victims to make up for the loss of her previous captures. If they had submitted to her, Mel would have to find their eyes before she could destroy the beldam for good. It was the only way to end this, once and for all. Not just to end the quest of Harland's forefathers, but to give her family peace that she knew would last.

Her mission was clear.

That night found her back at the house, in the bedroom she shared with Charlie, preparing for her monumental task. She had donned a dark maroon raincoat and boots over a sand green turtleneck sweater and long, khaki pants, along with a shoulder bag and Coraline's old school backpack, which she had dug up out of the closet. There was also the equipment Harland had given her; a lever-action shotgun, and an iron-plated .45 automatic pistol that he'd once used in his days in the navy, that which had "Big Iron" stamped on the side. He'd given her plenty of feroshot for both of them, plus a pistol belt and a shotgun bandolier.

_Mommy's gone Rambo_, she joked to herself, as she observed her rather strange attire in the mirror. In addition to the weapons, he'd given her an adder stone; a small, triangle-shaped seeing stone with rounded edges and a hole in the middle. It was supposed to help her uncover the entrance to the beldam's lair, as well as find Coraline and the eyes of the ghost children. According to Harland, the stone had belonged to Natalia herself, and had been passed down through generations of feromancers in his family. She held the simple object in her hand, studying it intently, and praying that it worked as well as he said it did. Otherwise, this mission of hers would be really short.

Harland's last piece of advice had been to keep an eye out for an 'old acquaintance' when she got to other world, supposedly someone who could help her find her way around. His words had confused her, but he hadn't given her any more information in that regard. _"You'll know her when you see her. She can be trusted." _Was all he'd said when she'd inquired further.

_"The Other World is very different from ours. The same limitations don't always apply. Keep an open mind." _She would have to remember that as well. It would no doubt be important.

It was nearly midnight by the time she'd finished her preparations. Mel had all of her equipment, the stone Harland had given her, and some food and medical supplies packed in her bags. She'd left a letter for Charlie on their bedside table, explaining everything, and informed Mrs. Lovat that she would be away for a few days (or so she assumed). She was as ready as she could possibly be.

It was time. She was going to bring her daughter back, or die trying.

Mel crept downstairs, fully equipped, and walked down the hall to the sitting room. Silver moonlight poured through the windows, illuminating the otherwise darkened room, and the little door on the wall. She approached it cautiously, the adder stone in her hand. This was it. The moment of truth.

Mel took a deep breath, and placed the stone against her eye.

She gasped.

When she looked through the seeing stone, everything around her had turned to black and white. Except for the little door at the base of the wall, which had become semi-transparent, revealing a winding, glowing blue tunnel that extended out into a black abyss. Mel dropped to her knees, and opened the door.

There were no bricks this time. The way was unbarred. The narrow tunnel was just big enough for her to crawl through, and at the far end, she could see a little door identical to the one in her living room. Just like that which had been described by Coraline, Mrs. Lovat, and the Major. By God, it was actually real. She had known it for some time, but to see it with her own eyes...

That was it. Here she was. There was no turning back now. Coraline was waiting for her.

Mel took one last moment to adjust the strap of her shoulder bag, unslung the shotgun, pumping the lever as she did so... and crawled into the tunnel.

_Hang on, Coraline. I'm coming._

* * *

**Up next: Chapter 4****, **_**Home Invasion...**_

**If you're still wondering where the Other Mother came from, well... I actually had no intention of revealing that in this chapter. Her origins will be explained in a later chapter, in the next act. I've decided that this story is going to be divided into three acts; _Reunification_, _Reclamation_, and _Reconciliation_. These first few chapters (Reunification) are about Mel's search for Coraline, the second act (Reclamation) is the search for the Ghost Eyes as well as the Beldam's origins, then the final act (Reconciliation) is the final confrontation with the Other Mother herself. All will be one story. I'm not certain how long it will be, but I'm thinking between 10 and 20 chapters. Stick around.**


	4. 04: Home Invasion

**Author's Note: I'm not sure how well I did with this chapter... After I got some critique on the last chapter, I tried to do a little better with this one, to make it a bit deeper. Not sure if I succeeded... at all, really. I kept editing this one, but I keep feeling like I'm missing something. Heck, I'm not sure if I should've just scrapped this chapter and started over from scratch. I guess I'll let you be the judge of that. Anyway, read and review. No flames.**

* * *

**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 4, _Home Invasion_**

If nothing else, Coraline wished she had a watch.

She had no idea whatsoever how long she had been trapped in this wretched place. It was always nighttime in the Other World, so she had no way of knowing. It felt like she had been there for months, maybe even a year, but it was hard to tell; especially since she'd been locked away behind the mirror.

She didn't even have the slightest clue how she'd gotten here; one night, she had gone to sleep in her own bed at the Pink Palace, hoping that for once she could go the night without being awoken by another horrific nightmare. There had been concern in her mother's eyes as she gone upstairs to her bedroom, having not touched any of her dinner, despite the fact that Mel Jones had made her favorite meal for that night; as opposed to letting her dad cook. Normally, she would have been glad for the chance to eat something that didn't look like it had been fished out of a swamp, but the last few weeks hadn't exactly been normal. What with the nightmares, the visions, passing out in school and being harassed by less-than-compassionate teachers who insisted she was faking... and having no one to turn to, she had begun to lose her will to live.

Coraline just wanted it all to stop. To be at peace. She just couldn't take the dreams anymore. Or the memories...

_...You could stay here forever, if you want too..._

_...so sharp, you won't feel a thing..._

_...Soon you'll see things _our _way..._

_...They say even the proudest spirit can be broken... with_ love...

_...Don't remember our names... but I remember my _true_ mommy..._

_...I thought you'd like him better, if he spoke a little less... so I fixed him..._

_...He pulled a long face... and Mother didn't like it..._

_No._ She couldn't bear to remember... His face had haunted her more than anything else. His constant, forced smile, a servant of the Other Mother, but he had actually cared for her, for he was the one who'd sacrificed himself to help her get away... the memory had haunted her ever since. He would sometimes appear in her nightmares; where she would watch, horrified, as the Other Mother picked him up with her clawed metal hands, steel piercing the fabric of his coat, allowing sawdust to pour from the wounds and onto the floor as his body deflated like a punctured balloon... Such dreams were among those that would cause her to awaken in the middle of the night screaming, and then leave her to cry herself back to sleep.

She also saw the ghost children lured to their fate... the ones the beldam had taken before. She watched, in perfect clarity, almost like a movie, but all too real. She watched them crawl through the little door, just as she had... she observed as the Other Mother entertained them, putting on shows, playing games, making them gifts, cooking their favorite meals... then, the buttons came. The others gave in more easily than her. The Other Mother had been more cunning with them, allowing them to return to their real homes after presenting them with the buttons. After only a day of experiencing misery and neglect in their real lives, they came back, their minds made up.

Coraline would watch in horror as the Other Mother sewed the buttons into their eyes. She had said it was painless... but it was obvious that she'd been lying. Though they didn't struggle, cry out, or shed any tears, their faces were contorted in pain throughout the process. They didn't cry out in pain because the Other Mother wouldn't let them. She preferred to leave them paralyzed and helpless as she worked, yet still seeing and feeling everything she did, with no outlet for the pain.

Then, Coraline would be forced to watch as the Other Mother consumed them. An experience she couldn't bear to describe, much less think about. But she couldn't help it. The images had been burned into her mind. She could never get back to sleep afterwards, remaining awake the rest of the night. Sleeping would mean having to watch it all over again.

And so it went on. Day after day. Night after night. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She kept telling herself that it would stop eventually, that the Other Mother was only trying to get even with her before her time ran out. But deep down, she knew the truth. The dreams were signs of things to come. She had known all along that it might come to this. She just didn't want to believe it, couldn't fathom returning to this place.

Once or twice she'd thought about talking to her mother about what had happened, the reason behind the nightmares and the visions, and her fainting spells... but what could she have said to her? No one with common sense, especially one as skeptical as her mother, would ever believe her story. She would have assumed Coraline was lying, perhaps putting on a show to get attention, just like the teachers at school. There was nothing she could have said to convince her. And thus, she had no one to turn to for help.

But she was going to have to tell her anyway.

That was what she had told herself, that last night in the Pink Palace, the _real_ Pink Palace. Coraline didn't know what kind of help she expected, if any, but she couldn't keep it to herself any longer. She was going to tell her mom everything, the whole story, what she had seen, what she had done... the truth about the 'dreams', her encounter with the Other Mother, how she had come within a hairs breadth of choosing to leave them forever, how she had come home to find them missing and experienced for a few horrible hours just what her life would be like without them...

All she could was hope and pray to God that her mother would listen to her, believe her. And if she didn't... she had one alternative. A way to escape the madness, to find peace. If no one would help her... she wouldn't have a choice.

In the end, it didn't matter. She never got the chance to tell her mom anything.

When she woke up in the morning, she realized that she was not in her bedroom anymore. Well, actually she was, but it wasn't quite _her_ bedroom... Coraline's room back home didn't have polished hardwood floors, fuchsia wallpaper with insect patterns, or stuffed animals and origami dragonflies that _talked_. The assortment of toys, her puppets, had welcomed her cheerfully...

_We missed you Coraline!_

_Yeah baby, It sure is good to have you back!_

_Welcome home, Coraline!_

Coraline hadn't felt welcome at all. She had been terrified out of her mind. Her worst nightmares seemed to be coming true. She'd scrambled back under the covers, tried to go back to sleep, hoping she would wake up, that it was just another horrible dream... but such relief never came. Then... _she _walked in. The subject of her nightmares, the one Coraline had hoped to never cross paths with again.

The Other Mother.

She was just as Coraline had seen her all those months ago, except she had returned to her more benign form, the doppelganger of her real mother with button eyes, as opposed to her true skeletal, arachnid form. She had welcomed her home warmly as well, once again putting on the caring mother act, as if mocking her.

"Welcome home, darling. It's been far too long," was how the Other Mother had greeted her. She had reached out as if to embrace her, but Coraline had shoved her away roughly.

"Not long enough. How did I get here? Let me out of this place!" She had screamed in protest.

The beldam shook her head, a gloating smile upon her face. "I don't think so, _dearest Coraline_. I don't think I could bear the thought of living without you..."

She knew what that meant. She'd said that she'd die without her, when Coraline had escaped last time. She'd heard the beldam's frenzied screams as she fled through the tunnel, back to the real world with the eyes of the ghost children, as well as the snow globe that contained her parent's souls, all that had kept her alive for one-hundred-and-fifty years. She remembered stumbling through the tunnel frantically, fearing for her life as the ends of the narrow passage closed in on one another as the Other Mother pounded on the door behind her...

_...DON'T LEAVE ME, DON'T LEAVE ME! I'LL _DIE _WITHOUT YOU...!_

Coraline had believed it was over. The ghost children had told her otherwise; that she was still alive, that Coraline was still in danger. But even then, she had thought the Other Mother would eventually die without the souls of her victims to sustain her. It had never occurred to her that she could get more.

Coraline wasn't sure how, but the Other Mother had managed to bring others to her realm; other children from all over the world had been lured here, just as she had. The Other Mother had granted their every wish, made everything seem like a dream come true, offered them a new life they believed would be better than what they had left. They had let her sew the buttons, just like the others. Coraline had seen it happen with her own eyes. There were times when the Other Mother would disappear for long periods, leaving Coraline all alone in the house with the doors locked, and a mound of treats on the kitchen table. During one of these absences, Coraline managed to pick the lock on the front door. She'd ventured out into the Other World and found  
it was a lot different from before.

Trying her best to have courage in the face of the unknown (despite being terrified deep down) she had wandered until she happened upon a sprawling city, a replica of the real world city of Manhattan, as best she could tell. It was teeming with cheerful, button-eyed residents and bathed in perpetual moonlight, just like the rest of the Other World. She kept the hood of her raincoat pulled low over eyes in an attempt to hide her identity from the denizens of Other Manhattan, constantly looking over her shoulder as she made her way down the street. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was being watched, and wondered if she was just being paranoid, or if the Other Mother was able to see her somehow.

Eventually, she was stopped by a button-eyed police officer at an intersection, who asked her if she was on her way to the party downtown. Trying her best to keep her face hidden beneath her hood, she'd inquired as to what he as talking about; the officer directed her to to a high-rise apartment building several blocks away. Beyond the front door of that building, a woman at the reception desk, who directed her to take the elevator to the penthouse floor.

There, she found the Other Mother was playing host to a birthday party for a boy a few years younger than her; a freckle-faced, sandy-haired 8-year old who was clearly enjoying himself, completely oblivious to the danger he was in as he accepted gifts and congratulations from the party guests, many of whom she noticed were replicates of real-life sports stars, celebrities and several fictional characters from various works of sci-fi like Star Wars and The Matrix.

She recognized button-eyed duplicates of Han Solo and Luke Skywalker sitting side-by-side on a couch in the center of the penthouse chatting amiably over drinks with the likes of Captain Kirk and Spock, while a Predator and Chewbacca were in the midst of an arm-wrestling competition at a table nearby, currently locked in an epic stalemate. There was also Neo, lurking in a corner in his dark attire and sunglasses, stoically observing the festivities from the sidelines. His gaze would occasionally drift over to the birthday boy on the other side of the room; Coraline couldn't help but notice that he looked ever-so-slightly concerned when he did this. The concern would quickly vanish when the Other Mother glanced in his direction, and be replaced with forced smile.

I guess not everyone is as happy as they seem, she'd thought. Just like her Other Father... and the Other Wybie. Not all of her servants were just mindless puppets. The Other Father had tried to fight her... and the Other Wybie... he'd sacrificed himself to save her. Why they did it, she never knew. Maybe they actually did care for her on some level, enough that they didn't want her to be lost like the others. Whatever their reasons, they had been able to make their own decisions. As far as Coraline could tell, the beldam only kept her servants loyal through fear.  
_  
_Coraline returned her attention to the party, searching for her tormentor. The Other Mother herself stood beside her victim, having taken on a new form to reflect the boy's true mother. She had the look of a wealthy, arrogant businesswoman about her; a blonde woman with her hair bound in a tight bun and clad in a black evening gown, and of course the same black button eyes. She stood behind her prey, eyeing the boy with a hungry smile, occasionally casting her gaze around the room to survey the various 'guests', perhaps to make sure that none of her servants were considering disobedience. She took no notice of Coraline, who was keeping her head down, hiding amidst the crowd of people as she tried to come up with a plan.

From the looks of him, the boy didn't have the slightest suspicion that his 'Other Mother' wanted to do anything more than make him happy, or had any sort of malicious intentions or ulterior motives. He was only 8-years old, and this young and naïve. Apparently the old saying 'don't talk to strangers' hadn't sunk in for him. Or perhaps the Other Mother simply didn't seem like a stranger to him, given that she mimicked the form of his real mother. Convincing him of the truth would be difficult, no doubt.

Maybe he would've figured it out on his own, once the Other Mother asked to sew the buttons into his eyes. But she couldn't take that risk; the little ghost boy from before, the one she'd nicknamed 'Huck Finn Jr.' had been about the same age, maybe younger. And he had taken the Other Mother's bargain.

Her intent was to wait for the chance to catch the boy on his own, then get him as far away as possible before the Other Mother noticed. What Coraline didn't know is that she already knew she was there.

What had happened then was all a blur to her; one moment, she was edging her way through the crowd towards the unnamed boy, as he stepped away from the party to go to the bathroom. Next moment the floor collapsed beneath her feet, sending her plunging into a white abyss with a shriek of surprise and terror, until she landed on her bed back at the Other Pink Palace. For a while she just lay there in the bed, shaking and breathing heavily, drenched in sweat, still trying to recover from the shock of what she had been certain should have been a fatal plunge. Once she realized she was actually alive, she remembered what she had been trying to do. Coraline made a run for the door in a panic, but it was locked. She would pound on the door for several hours, demanding to be let out before she collapsed from exhaustion.

Later, the Other Mother came to visit Coraline in her room. Once again she had taken the form of Coraline's real mother, though she was still in her evening wear from the party... and with a rather smug expression on her face. At that point, it was clear that her latest victim had given in.

"You... you're a _monster_. How could you just..." Coraline choked out, tears running down her cheeks. The Other Mother shook her head.

"You wound me, _dearest Coraline_. How could you think of me as a _monster_, after everything I've done for you-?"

_"You just murdered an eight-year old!" _Coraline snarled; her tears were gone, and now she was seething with rage. Anger had overridden fear and sorrow. She was angry that this vile witch had stolen her and so many others from their homes, their families. She was enraged, that this creature could so callously dispose of innocent children for the purpose of sustaining her own life. She was angry at herself that she had been so easily fooled when she had first come here, for being dragged into all of this, for being indirectly responsible for the deaths of all the beldam's previous victims...

The Other Mother was no longer smiling. She never had liked back-talk. That was how Coraline had gotten herself locked behind the mirror last time. You think she would have learned. But the overwhelming tide of grief and anger had left no room for and fear or common sense.

"Is that any way to talk to your _mother?_" Deja vu.

_"You... are... not... my... mother!"_

* * *

And that was that. After her outburst, the beldam had dragged her downstairs by her ear, tossing her into the cell behind the mirror once again. She hadn't heard from the Other Mother since then. She had been left alone in the dark, dank cell, with nothing to eat, and unable to sleep, for God knew how long. There were no ghosts in the cell with her this time; they were most likely being kept somewhere else. She was cold, hungry, and tired. She hadn't been fed, and the beldam it seem had done something that made her unable to sleep, so she couldn't even find temporary relief from this waking nightmare. Coraline also had considered that she should have starved to death, being stuck in here for so long without food. But the beldam could also prevent her from dying, for death would surely carry her to Heaven unless the buttons were sewn into her eyes.

It became clear at that point that the Other Mother's only interest in her was revenge. She didn't need Coraline's eyes; she'd already taken more than enough souls to sustain her for several centuries, judging by what she had created, how far the Other World had expanded.

Trapped with no way out, Coraline could do nothing but ponder and regret. She sat with her back against the concrete wall, her eyes closed, and thought of what had brought her here. She cursed herself for being so stupid, for going back to the Other World that second night, after all the warnings of danger lurking beyond the little door. She thought of all the people she'd left back in the real world... like Wybie, whom she had become close friends with in the months following her ordeal. He was the one person she could confide in, having rescued Coraline from the beldam's clutches when she had been trying to dispose of the key. The only person who believed her, who understood what she was going through. When she told him about the nightmares, he'd urged her to talk to her parents, to make them believe her however she could and promising to back her up. Coraline wished she had listened to him sooner. She wished she had been nicer to him when they first met; she never had really apologized for the way she treated him. Now it seemed like she would never get the chance.

More than anything, she missed her real parents... her real dad, even though he treated her like she was still five, even though he was probably the worst cook in the world, she still loved him. He'd always been there for her when she needed him, protected her, helped her with school work, worked out in the garden with her, the two of them laughing, joking, having fun together... with her mother sometimes joining in when she wasn't busy...

By God, her mother. Her _real_ mother. She had always done her best to provide for her family, working well into the night to keep her husband and daughter happy. Mel Jones was always so serious, so immersed in her work, yet she still found the time on occasion to be with her daughter. Coraline remembered the times when she was little, when she would wake up in the middle of the night after a bad dream; she'd find her mom still up, seated at the low table in the living room with her laptop open, trying to get as much work done as possible before bed. Mel would allow her daughter to curl up next to her, wrapping one arm around her to comfort her. She remembered resting her head against her mother's breast, the light scent of perfume, finding peace and drifting off to sleep in her warm embrace...

Those memories were Coraline's only escape from the nightmare. Though such memories were often accompanied by guilt, when Coraline remembered how she'd acted in the days before her ordeal. If she hadn't been running her mouth in the car, whining about having to move, her mom wouldn't have hit that truck. She wouldn't have broken her neck, nor would she have been so stressed out when they arrived at the Pink Palace as she worked herself tirelessly to meet her deadline. Even then, Coraline hadn't relented. She kept bothering her, trying to get attention. She'd even pestered her mother into opening the little door in the first place, setting in motion this whole chain of events.

Coraline couldn't help but wonder if her parents even cared that she was gone. Surely, they would be grieving over the loss of their only daughter... but why should they? No doubt their lives would be less stressful with Coraline around to annoy them all the time. She wouldn't blame her mother if no tears were shed over her vanishing. It made her wish she could just see her mom, her real mom, one more time... just to tell her she was sorry...

But that chance would never come. This was her punishment, it seemed, for the way she had acted. It was her fault that her mom had gotten in that accident. It was her fault her parents had been stolen by the Other Mother. And it was her own fault that she was trapped in this wretched place, for being a spoiled, selfish brat.

And Coraline couldn't help but think, as she sat there locked away in the darkened cell behind the mirror... that maybe it would be better for everyone if she stayed locked away.

* * *

When Mel reached the door at the other end of the tunnel, it was locked.

Thankfully, a lever-action shotgun loaded with feroshot was a more than adequate supplement for a key in this case.

A single shot rang out as the door practically flew off its hinges, the lock blown away completely; the feroshot had literally incinerated whatever dark matter the door handle was made of. Mel crawled through the doorway and out into the living room that was identical to the one in her own house, except for one minor detail; the old portrait on the wall above the fireplace, that which depicted a tearful little boy in a blue outfit and cap with spilled ice cream down his front, instead depicted the same boy happily enjoying a vanilla ice cream cone. Mel shook her head at the painting, which was no doubt an aspect of the illusion that the Other Mother created for her victims. The illusion of a better world.

From the living room, she moved out into the hallway, shotgun at the ready. The lights were on in the hall, but most of the house was dark; the kitchen, dining hall, and sitting room illuminated only by the slivers of moonlight that peeked through the windows. There was no sign of anyone living in the house, of Coraline, or the Other Mother. This made her worry... what it Harland had been wrong? What if she _had _fled after all, and taken Coraline with her?

_Then I'll scour the entire globe until I find them, _she promised to herself. One way or another, sooner or later, Coraline was coming home with her. That was that.

Mel searched the whole house, starting with Coraline's bedroom; she noted how it look so much nicer than her real bedroom, and that it was empty. She checked in the closet, under the bed... nothing. Once, she though she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned to look there was nothing. Just the stuffed animals and toys sitting quietly on their shelves.

It was unnerving, being in the house, in the dark. She wasn't sure what it was that bothered her about the place. Perhaps it was knowing exactly where she was, and the fact that it all looked... too nice, too _normal. _She wasn't sure what she'd expected on the other side of the little door. Something more... grand? A manor, a castle, or something of the sort. But it just looked like an ordinary house that had gotten the HGTV treatment. But as she wandered through the house, she couldn't help but feel as though there was someone, or something else there, watching her.

She checked the attic. Nothing. There was a little sewing workshop up there where she assumed the Other Mother crafted her puppet servants, but no sign of the Other Mother herself. A shiver ran down Mel's spine as she surveyed the room, looking down the iron sights of the borrowed shotgun; she couldn't help but picture one of those puppet-men from the bar, lying on the sewing table like some kind of Frankenstein monster as it was assembled by needle and thread by that spider-witch. She didn't stay in the attic for too long.

Back downstairs, Mel was trying to figure out where else to look. She'd finished checking every room in the house, and saw no sign of Coraline anywhere. She stood in the hallway, breathing heavily, panic setting in; there was still that feeling that she was being watched, and she half-expected some manner or spectre or monster to strike at her from the shadows. She stared at her reflection in the mirror on the wall, trying to calm herself enough that she could think...

_Wait._

A mirror...

Then, she remembered Mrs. Lovat's tale. Coraline had found the ghosts of the beldam's previous victims imprisoned behind a mirror. The mirror in the hallway concealed a prison cell.

Mel approached the wall cautiously, and tapped the glass several times with her fingers.

_"Coraline...?"_

* * *

No. It couldn't be.

Coraline hadn't immediately registered the voice that called out to her from outside her prison. She was too lost in thought, wallowing in guilt and regret to pay much attention. But when the voice called out a second time, she heard it.

But it couldn't be. It was _impossible..._

There was the sound of light tapping on glass, and the voice came again. _"Coraline? Are you in there?"_

It was her mom. Not the Other Mother. She knew it, somehow, she wasn't sure how, but she knew it was her. Her real mother.

_"Mom...?"_

* * *

Mel's call had been answered. She'd found her.

"Coraline? Coraline, can you hear me?" She called out again.

On the other side of the wall, Coraline had crawled over to the bare stretch of concrete that concealed the exit. She pressed her ear to the wall as to hear better, and answered the voice.

"Mom... is that really you? The _real _you?" She asked. Of course, if it was the Other Mother, she could simply lie, although that didn't occur to her right away.

"It's me, Coraline. I've come to get you out of here," Mel answered, her heart beating frantically with excitement.

Coraline wanted to believe it. But what was happening... _how_ was this happening? Was this some trick orchestrated by the Other Mother to torment her? How could her mom have possibly found her way here? She didn't even know this place really existed, wouldn't even consider such a thing, since Coraline knew how skeptical she was...

She didn't have to wonder for too long. As Coraline tried to process what was going on, she noticed her mom was still calling her name.

"Coraline? Coraline... if you can still hear me, stand back from the wall. I'm going to blast it open!" She shouted from the other side.

"Wait... you're going to _what?_" Coraline shouted back, wondering if she had heard correctly.

"I said _stand back!_"

As Coraline scrambled away from the wall to take cover in the corner of the cell, Mel leveled the shotgun at the mirror, and opened fired.

She fired once, then twice, then three times. The first shot shattered the glass, the second and third rounds of feroshot burned through the concrete wall behind it as though it were parchment subjected to fire, glowing white and melting away where the projectiles had struck. A small room was revealed to be on the other side of the hole; Mel crawled through it... and for the first time in nearly two years, laid eyes upon her daughter. She was sitting in the corner with her hands covering her head, looking just as Mel remembered; short-cropped blue hair with a dragonfly barrette, an orange-and-yellow stripe sweater, blue jeans, and striped socks. She was dirty and pale, and when she looked up she had dark circles under her eyes. She also looked as though she had been starved.

But she was alive. She was actually here, and she was _alive... _after two long years...

Mel dropped the shotgun to the floor and rushed forward to embrace her daughter, her eyes overflowing with tears of joy. She could scarcely believe it...

_"You found me..."_ Coraline rasped out, wrapping her arms around mother's abdomen. It was her. By God, it was really her. No button eyes. No metal limbs. Her real mother was here... she'd come to rescue her... she hadn't forgotten about her after all. It was all too much to take at once. Coraline cried silently along with her mother, her tears dampening her sand-green turtleneck sweater.

"I missed you so much..." said Mel, stroking her daughter's hair with one hand while hugging her tighter with the other. The two simply stayed like that for a moment before Mel was brought back to reality, and turned her gaze to the shotgun laying on the floor.

_It's not over yet._

* * *

"Are you okay? Can you walk?" Mel asked her daughter. Coraline pulled away slightly. "I think so. Just... help me up," she replied.

Mel helped Coraline to her feet, picking up the shotgun as she did so. Her daughter seemed to have some trouble standing up, probably a result of sitting in this cramped, dark cell for so long. She allowed Coraline to lean on her, supporting her daughter with her left hand and holding the shotgun with her right. The two of them turned about, and stepped back through the hole Mel had made.

As they stepped back into the hall, Mel found there was someone waiting for them.

_"I believe you have something that belongs to _me_."_

There, standing at the other end of the hall by the front door, was a being of at least 6 feet in height, with the upper body of a woman, and a lower body composed of an assembly of metallic, spider-like legs constructed from sewing implements. Pallid, cracked flesh stretched over a skeletal frame, her cracked white skull topped with a mop of greasy black hair, and adorned with a pair of jet-black button eyes.

"So... you're the one who stole my daughter from me," Mel accused, glaring at the creature. The Other Mother stared back with a gloating smile.

"Oh, did I _steal _her from you? Or... did I simply take back what was rightfully mine?" She replied mockingly. Mel's eyes widened, appalled at what she was suggesting.

"_Yours?_ How could she be yours?" Mel retorted. "_I _am her mother. I gave birth to her. I raised her, I cared for her. She's _mine, _not yours."

The Other Mother shook her head. "No... you may have brought her into _your_ world... but I brought her into _this_ world; _my world_." She stated matter-of-factly. "When you neglected her, when you _'didn't have time for her', _I took her in. I cared for her. I did everything in my power to make her happy. By right... she is _mine."_

_"You tricked me!" _Coraline spat, anger in her voice. The Other Mother merely smiled at her in a mocking way, saying nothing, but her expression made her thoughts clear. _I know. _To her, that particular detail was irrelevant.

"I don't care for your twisted logic," Mel responded. She raised the shotgun, pointing it at the monsters torso. "I've come this far, and I'm not leaving without her just because you think you have a claim to her. I'm taking Coraline home, and you're not going to stop me."

"Oh? And how do you intend to do that?" She nodded at the weapon in Mel's hand. "You think to challenge me with a _combustion gun?" _She mocked. "How _barbaric..."_

It was Mel's turn to smile. It seemed the witch was completely unaware of the fact that the scattergun was loaded with feroshot. _She won't know what hit her. _Of course, Mel could not actually kill her; not while she still had the eyes of the other children in her possession. But she could still wound her. She could make it hurt. It would buy her some time to get away, find the eyes... and Mel could make her pay for what she had done to her daughter. For though Coraline was alive, she'd been locked in that little cell behind the mirror for so long, and she was weak from starvation, filthy and pale from lack of sunlight, and clinging to her mother's waist for support. She was going to make this witch bleed for that, assuming that skeletal, metallic creature could actually bleed.

_"Get out of my way..._ or I'll show you just how _barbaric_ I can be," Mel challenged. The Other Mother rose up to her full height, towering over her human counterpart in an attempt to intimidate her, brandishing her needle-like claws as she did so.

"I have a better idea... why don't you give me back _my _daughter," the Other Mother suggested, "...and I may let you walk out of here alive."

Mel shook her head, her finger tightening on the trigger. _"Over my dead body."_

"Oh... I can arrange that." And with that, she charged down the hall towards the duo, scuttling along on her six legs, her metallic, skeletal claws extended-

-and was abruptly thrown back as a shotgun blast caught her square in the chest. She howled in pain as the feroshot burned through her pale flesh, causing white-hot fluid like molten steel to drip onto the floor from where the scattershot had struck. Her clawed hands gripped the walls of the corridor to support her. She gasped as she rought one hand up to the wounds in her chest, and it came away with the white molten fluid on her fingertips.

_"You... the bane... how did you...?" _Mel smirked back at her, taking satisfaction at the sight of the witch in agony, molten blood scorching the hardwood floor, while she was struggling to remain standing.

"Harland sends his regards," Mel answered. She pumped the shotguns lever and took aim, prepared to fire again and reduce the monstrosity before her to molten slag...

But before she had a chance, the Other Mother howled in rage, and suddenly the floor gave out from under them, sending both Mel and Coraline tumbling into a white abyss... the two woman screamed in shock and fear as the fell into nothingness...

* * *

But then their fall was brought to an abrupt halt as Mel felt herself land in something thick, cold, and wet. The white abyss was gone, and she was surrounded by trees on all sides, a pale-green moon shining overhead through the treetops. It was then that Mel realized she had landed in the midst of a forest, in a puddle of mud, the shotgun having fallen from her grasp and landed a few feet away. Coraline had landed on top of her; she was unconscious, but she was still breathing. Mel still had one arm wrapped around her daughter as she sat up, taking in her surroundings. It looked like they had been transported to the woods in the hills near Ashland... except the area was overrun with a panoply of bioluminescent plant life and multicolored, button-eyed woodland critters that were scrambling for cover, startled by the two people that had literally just dropped into their midst out of nowhere.

The Other Mother had paniced, it seemed, teleporting them somewhere far from the Pink Palace before Mel could pull the trigger again. Why Coraline had been transported with her, she wasn't certain; her best guess was that the beldam hadn't meant to do that.

Harland had been right; the old witch was clearly terrified of feromancy, and now Mel could see why. Those bullets had looked like they hurt. Of course, normal bullets hurt, no doubt about that... but ordinary bullets didn't cause people to bleed molten steel or burn through solid concrete. The effects were a great deal more dramatic than she'd anticipated.

What was to happen next was uncertain; she had the means to fight this creature, but Mel still needed to find the other children that had been stolen before she could actually destroy it. But she had Coraline back... she had already accomplished more than she'd ever thought possible. For now, Mel would have to tend to her daughter; Coraline was in no shape to come with her, and there was no safe place in this strange world where she could hide her. Once Coraline was well enough to travel, she could plan a course of action; perhaps it was best if she began by looking for the 'old acquaintance' Harland had mentioned, whom he said could help her, though she wasn't even sure where to begin looking for her. Or who she actually was, for that matter.

Once she had recovered from the shock of her death-plunge, Mel gathered up the shotgun, slinging it over her shoulder, and the picked up Coraline, who was still out cold. She set off into the woods, her first mandate to find shelter, carrying her daughter bridal-style as she trekked through the forest... unaware that she was being followed.

Back in the clearing where they had landed, a pair of large blue eyes surveyed her from the cover of the underbrush. These eyes belonged to a scrawny, weathered-looking black cat, which observed the woman intently as she wandered off, carrying her offspring; the rude, blue-haired girl he'd met before. He was surprised to see that both of them were still alive. Especially the woman.

_The old man was right,_ it thought. _She is quite capable indeed. _Perhaps there was a chance that she could put an end to the old witch after all... with his help, of course. With that in mind, he leapt from his hiding spot, and darted away into the woods in pursuit of the duo.

* * *

**Up Next: Chapter 5, _Lost and Found..._**

**Author's Note: You may have noticed some similarities to Marquis Carabas' "The Station Sequence" in this chapter and the last; namely the use of feromancy and references to 'the Bane' by the Other Mother. Yes, that aspect was inspired by his story. Speaking of which, if you haven't read "Wells Street Station" here in the Coraline section, or any of it's sequels, I strongly recommend you do so. It's mind-blowingly epic, and extremely well-written. Trust me.**

**Anyway, I've already started Chapter 5. I'll be working on getting that up next week. Stick around, if you're still interested.**


	5. 05: Lost and Found

**Author's Note: Okay, turns out I didn't butcher the last chapter like I expected. But there's a possibility I may have butchered this one... or maybe I'm just being paranoid as usual. Just don't hurt me.**

**This one came out as sort of a filler chapter. I didn't want to make it too long; I find extremely long chapters to be a bit daunting when I'm the reader, and my chapters have been getting a bit longer with each addition. I think there may be... about 3-4 chapters left in this first act, "Reunification", then the second act, "Reclamation", will begin (again, this will all be one story). The first part of this adventure has been about Mel's search for her daughter; ****the second part is the quest for the Ghost Eyes. I have some good plot ideas for the future... suffice to say, retrieving the eyes will not be as simple this time around, and there are consequences to expanding the Other World that neither Coraline or the Other Mother would have anticipated.**

**But, that's for later. For now, here's the next chapter in Act I. Read and review.**

* * *

**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 5, _Lost and Found_**

Well. That was strange.

A few moments after she initially awoke, as her senses came back online, Coraline was able to tell that something had changed. The cold was gone. She was no longer lying upon the coarse, hard concrete floor of the cell behind the mirror. The dank, musky odor of her cell with the soaked mattress in the corner was replaced by the smell of a forest after a rainstorm. Coraline herself was warm and dry, lying on something soft, with a heavy blanket draped over her. For a while, she just lay there, her minded still fogged over with sleep, trying to remember what had happened. Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.

_"Coraline... can you hear me?"_

She opened her eyes.

As she had suspected, she was no longer in the cell. Instead, she was lying on her back in a makeshift bed, the blanket pulled up to her neck. The dirt and grime that had accumulated on her during her imprisonment was gone, and she could feel under the blankets that her clothes had been removed as well. Her mom was kneeling beside her, looking down upon her with concern in her eyes. The memories of her mother's rescue were starting to come back now... she remembered hearing her voice outside the cell, the sound of gunshots, the solid concrete being burned away as though it were parchment... then, the Other Mother, waiting for them in the hallway, an exchange of heated words, another gunshot, a shriek of agony... and beyond that, she could not remember anymore. She must have blacked out at that point.

"Mom...? I... where are we...?" She asked with confusion.

"Your 'Other Mother' teleported us out into the woods. I think she panicked after I shot her," her Mom answered. At that point Coraline noticed the lever-action shotgun slung over her mother's back, the bandolier across her torso, and the pistol belt strapped to her waist. Even after all the time Coraline had spent in the Other World, all the things she'd seen in this bizarre place, Coraline was quite certain that she'd never seen anything as strange as her mom having gone Rambo.

"Where did you get a _gun?"_Coraline asked. Her mother only shrugged. "It's a long story... I'll explain later. But what about you?" She asked. "How do you feel?"

Coraline didn't immediately answer. She definitely felt better than she had in a long time, now that she was out of that cell. And she'd apparently been able to sleep for a while, after having been forced to stay awake throughout her imprisonment, denied any sort of relief from her waking nightmare, left alone in the dark with nothing but her thoughts. It was also the also the first time in what felt like years that she'd slept without being awoken by some horrific nightmare. Still, she felt exhausted, and her stomach growled with hunger as she remember that she hadn't eaten throughout her entire prison sentence either.

"Do we have anything to eat?" She asked, her voice raspy from lack of water as well. Mel nodded, grabbing what Coraline recognized as her old school backpack, which had been leaning against a rock nearby.

Mel rummaged through the contents of her pack; her food supplies consisted of whatever she'd been able find in the kitchen. She put together a number of sandwiches using various lunch meat, cheese, and bread that she'd picked up food shopping the other day, and wrapped in plastic-wrap. There were also several bottles of water, some granola bars, and a few juice boxes. She was beginning to wonder if she should've paid more attention when preparing her food supplies. Mel felt she was more ready for a picnic on the beach than an expedition into a dangerous parallel dimension.

"Why am I _naked?"_ Coraline inquired as Mel rifled through her backpack. At that point Mel remembered having taken the time to bathe her daughter in a nearby stream earlier before tucking her into bed. She'd also done away with the dirty, ragged clothing Coraline had been wearing for God knew how long, and forgotten to dress her afterwards.

"Oh... I cleaned you up a bit, and got rid of those old clothes. They were completely ruined," Mel answered without looking up, taking a couple of sandwiches and a juice box out of her pack.

"Please tell me you brought some extra clothes," Coraline pleaded. Mel set the items down at the end of her makeshift bed, and turned to the duffel bag she'd also brought with her.

"Of course. Hang on a second." Mel unzipped the bag, which contained her first-aid kit and some spare clothes for the both of them; she pulled out a red-and-orange striped sweater identical to the one Coraline had worn before (she'd always kept several just like it) a pair of blue jeans, some underwear, and plain white socks. Coraline took them as they were tossed over to her, throwing the blanket over her head as to have some privacy as she got dressed. There was also a spare raincoat and a pair of yellow swampers in the bag as well, but Mel left them where they were for the time being. Coraline was not yet in any shape to travel.

Her daughter had emerged from under the covers fully clothed, and immediately grabbed the wrapped sandwich and juice box. She unwrapped the sandwich, tossing the used plastic-wrap aside and taking a huge bite out of one half, letting the other half sit on the blanket for the moment. She moaned in satisfaction, her mouth full of turkey and bacon, having almost forgotten what it felt like to be properly fed.

"Better?" Mel asked. Coraline nodded, giving a soft "Mm-hm" before setting down the sandwich and taking a long draw from the juice box.

"You know-" she began, pausing to take another bite from the sandwich, "-I think I'm a little too old for you to be giving me a bath. Not that I don't appreciate it," she stopped for a moment to swallow. "...but that's more than a little embarrassing."

Mel smiled, shaking her head. "Well, considering you weren't conscious to do it yourself..." she trailed off. "Besides, what are you worried about?"

Coraline was about to indulge herself in the second half of the sandwich when she stopped, tapping her chin in thought.

"Oh, I don't know... how about my _mom_ seeing me _naked,_ for starters?" She retorted. Mel chuckled lightly, rolling her eyes.

"As if I haven't seen it before. I gave birth to you, remember? And it definitely wasn't _dad_ who changed you or gave you a bath when you needed one as a baby..." She recalled that Charlie had in fact refused point-blank to do any of these things, saying it was to 'awkward' for him. Thus, Mel was forced to handle most things in regards to caring for her baby daughter, to compensate for his cowardice.

"Yeah, okay... please refrain from telling me embarrassing stories from when I was a baby for now. I'm _trying_ to _eat_ here," Coraline responded, her face reddening. At this, Mel laughed. Though they still had a long way to go to get home, it felt... good, to be able to talk with Coraline again, to tease her, to laugh and joke with her again. To hear her nasally, childish voice after two years of silence. Back in the real world, their house had felt so... empty, so lifeless without her. She had also noticed it to have a profound effect on Charlie without her around. He'd been so quiet and withdrawn since she disappeared, so unlike himself, as if part of him had vanished with his daughter. Hopefully, she would be able to fix that soon, fill the void. All she had to do was get Coraline home alive. Now she realized just how important it was to keep her promise to Charlie.

Mel had already gotten farther than she'd thought she could. Coraline was alive. She was far from safe and sound at this point, but Mel had gotten her back and had her well on the way to recovery. Now all she had to do was put an end to the Other Mother, put an end to this drama one and for all, and get them back home. Easier said than done. But it wasn't as though she had any choice.

Coraline would devour at least two more sandwiches, several granola bars and drain a half dozen juice boxes before she was satisfied. Mel was beginning to wonder just how long she'd gone without food.

"No idea," Coraline replied when Mel asked. "But I haven't eaten anything since I got here. I didn't want anything from her."

_"What?" _Mel was shocked at that bit of information. "Are you- do you know how long- wait..." She stammered. "Do you mean to tell me you haven't eaten anything in _two years?"_ She inquired. After hearing this, Coraline's eyes widened.

"I- what- _two years...?" _Coraline obviously hadn't expected to hear that. "I've been gone that long?"

Mel nodded. "Two years, and five months," she clarified. It took Coraline some time to regain her voice.

"It was _her._ The Other Mother. She must have done something..." Coraline trailed off. She stared at the ground, appearing lost in thought, trying to comprehend what had happened. Mel was even more baffled. Then, she remember something Harland had mentioned.

"I know what she did. Harland told me that she has the power to keep you alive, until she can break you," Mel provided. Coraline looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"Who's Harland?"

"The man who helped me find you. He gave me all these things," she tugged on the strap to the shotgun on her back, and pulled the adder stone out of her pocket. Coraline focused on the small, seemingly insignificant object in her hand.

"You got one of those funny seeing stones, too?" She asked.

"How do _you_ know about these things?" Mel peered at her daughter curiously through the stone. When she looked through it, she noticed that all of her surroundings turned to shades of grey, while Coraline was highlighted in bright blue.

"Ms. Spink and Forcible and made one for me when- uh, when I came here before," was her answer. But Mel was getting the impression that she wasn't telling her everything. She brushed it off, for the moment.

"Do they know about this place?" Mel asked her. Coraline only shrugged.

"I don't know. All they said was 'they're good for bad things'. Or lost things. Or whatever."

Mel made a mental note to speak to the elderly former actresses when she got back. She'd been stumbling in the dark looking for answers all that time, and they hadn't made any offer to help? Maybe they thought she wouldn't believe them... or they didn't know the full extent of the corruption in the Pink Palace. Coraline seemed to read her expression.

"I don't think they knew exactly what was going on. They just told me I was in danger, and gave me that funny stone." She supplied. This confused Mel.

"What do you mean, 'they told you were in danger'?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Coraline hung her head, looking ashamed.

"I was such an idiot," she said. She then proceeded to explain to her everything that had transpired those first few days at the Pink Palace; the warnings from Wybie and Mr. Bobinsky. Her fortune-telling session with Ms. Spink, and the dire prediction of danger. Mel would have said it all sounded far-fetched at the time. It seemed Coraline had inherited that skeptical aspect of her mother's personality.

"Everyone told me not to go near the door. They _tried_ to warn me. I didn't listen," Coraline admitted. Mel shook her head.

"You still thought they were just dreams. Of course you didn't take them seriously-"

"No, _don't you get it?"_ Her daughter interrupted, looking up into her eyes. "I knew it was real. Maybe I thought it was just a dream at first, but after the second time I knew it was more than just a dream."

"When you went shopping that day... I went through the door again. After everything I'd heard, I knew that place was real, and I still came here. And I almost..." she trailed off, not finishing her sentence. Mel noticed that she was beginning to tear up, and she looked away again. At that point Mel realized those were tears of shame and guilt. What would she not tell her?

"What? You almost _what...?_ Mel inquired. Coraline remained silent.

"Coraline...?"

"Why did you come for me?" She asked suddenly. Mel was rather taken aback by that strange question.

"Why did I...? What do you mean?" Mel was becoming more confused. Her daughter was hiding something; something she had done, something that had eaten away at her... Mel had a sneaking suspicion of what was coming.

"After the way I acted... after I made you get in that accident. After acting like a... _a spoiled brat._ Why would you go through all of this... for me?" That was just what Mel had suspected. She crawled onto the makeshift bed, wrapping her arms around her daughter in a comforting manner.

"Because I love you," was her answer. "Maybe you were a bit of a pain in the neck-"

"-literally," Coraline choked out. Mel gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Yes, literally. But you're still my daughter. Maybe I should've grounded you for the accident..." (Coraline didn't argue this time) "...but I would never condemn you to this hell for it. What makes you think I could do that?"

Her daughter did not respond to this, so Mel continued. "Our lives weren't the same without you, you know. And I couldn't go on not knowing what had happened to my little girl. Even if I don't always act like it, I do care about you. You and your father are my entire world. I could never give up on you."

"Even though I almost gave up on you?" Coraline finally responded, catching her off-guard.

"What do you mean?"

Mel's little speech seemed to have evoked a great deal of guilt and shame in her daughter, as was evident on her face. Her eyes were closed, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, and she would no longer make eye contact with her mother.

"She asked me if I wanted to stay. The Other Mother."

_Oh. _For Mel, things were starting to become clear.

"You mean... the last time you were here?" Coraline nodded.

"What did you say?"

Coraline sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I almost said yes. She said I could stay here forever, if I wanted. I was ready to say yes..."

"Then, the buttons," Mel supplied. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"Yeah. After that, I wanted out. But for that one moment... I was just going to leave. All for a few party favors. I didn't even stop to think about you, or dad..."

"Did you think we wouldn't care if you left back then, too?" Mel interjected. Coraline didn't answer immediately.

"No, not really..." She replied weakly, after several moments.

Mel sighed. Now she was beginning to feel guilty. It wasn't as though Mel hadn't given her some reason to consider running away, when she thought about it. She remembered the way she had treated her daughter, during the move...  
_  
...Coraline... I don't have time for you right now..._

_...Will you _stop_ pestering me if I do this for you..._

_...Coraline, we've been through this before... your dad cooks, I clean, and you stay out of the way..._

_...I almost fell down a well yesterday, mom..._

_...Uh-huh..._

_...I would have _died...

_...That's nice..._

"Look," Mel began. "Maybe you wouldn't have felt that way if I hadn't acted so callous..."

"It wasn't your fault," Coraline countered.

"I was under a lot of stress, that's true... but I still shouldn't have treated you that way." Mel argued.

"And I shouldn't have acted like a spoiled brat."

"We were both wrong, okay?" She insisted. "The move was hard on all of us, and we all acted like jerks. I'm sorry for the way I treated you... okay?"

Her words seemed to make Coraline feel a little better, and she wiped away the last of her tears. "I'm sorry too... for everything..."

"Bygones?" Mel asked.

"Bygones." Her daughter confirmed.

"Good. Now, come here," With that, Mel pulled her daughter into a hug. Coraline's head rested in the crook of her neck as Mel stroked her electric-blue hair.

"We can't change the past. But we can try to do better for the future," Mel suggested.

"That starts with getting out of here," Coraline affirmed.

"I think I can help with that," came a voice behind them, startling both of them and causing them to whirl around, to the sight of the scrawny black cat sitting on the tree root nearby.

* * *

_Pain._

A very strange concept to her, as one who hadn't felt physical pain in over 500 years. Having that damnable cat tear at her eyes with its claws hadn't hurt. Being attacked in that way had invoked anger, as she scrambled around blindly searching for the brat that threw the vile animal at her. It hadn't even hurt when the girl had closed her hand in the door, breaking it off. Rage, panic, frustration, that she had been cheated, her prey having escaped. But not pain.

But iron, though... a blast of superheated pure-iron pellets fired into her chest? That had hurt.

To one such as the Other Mother, to be touched by iron was like having acid injected into her veins (just as an example, since she didn't actually have veins). A horrible burning sensation had spread from where the projectiles had impacted all over her body, to the tips of her metallic limbs. The white-gold liquid still poured from her wounds, like molten steel, burning her ragged black dressings and pallid, cracked flesh. There was nothing she could do for it, either. She had no means to heal herself. The pellets had already disintegrated, so she didn't need to worry about removing them. The wounds would heal on their own, in time. All she could do was wait.

The Other Mother had been quite surprised to find Coraline's _old_ mother in her domain. She hadn't expected anyone to find her, much less a feromancer. There was only one feromancer in existence that she knew of, and that was the old man... one of the Crowes. The ones who'd tailed her for five centuries. One of her servants had stumbled across him as they explored the world beyond her domain, hiding in a pub in the town, not far from the house. He was old and feeble, hardly a threat to her anymore... but he was also the last of his bloodline. It was because of him, and his ancestors that she was forced to flee her home, to retreat to the old house on the frontier, on the other side of the world. The Other Mother knew better than to challenge a feromancer, and so she had no choice but to run. When the Other Mother discovered that he'd taken up residence not far from the entrance to her lair, she'd ordered her servants to show the old man the error of his ways; to settle the score, to show him that he and his ancestors had made a mistake in crossing her.

The three servants she'd sent hadn't returned. And then that woman had some found a way into her home, and she'd come bearing iron? It was obvious what had happened. Her servants had been destroyed, and the old man had shown Coraline's mother how to break into her domain, and given her the means to inflict unimaginable physical pain on her. Unexpected.

She was gone now, but so was Coraline. A mistake on her part; she had transported the woman to another part of her domain, but she'd been unable to focus her power properly in her wounded state, and ended up accidentally sending the girl away as well. She couldn't call her back, either. That power only worked one way, and was restricted by range. Even this world had its limitations... just different limitations than the real world.

The Other Mother was holed up in her attic workshop. This was where she crafted all of her servants... including the little, button-eyed duplicate of Coraline she'd sent through the door two years ago. The doll was back in her possession, lying on the table, its head tilted towards the beldam as she sat slumped in the wooden chair next to the workbench. She'd kept it as a souvenir after Coraline escaped last time. It was an aspect of her obsession with the girl.

The blue-haired girl was so much more... interesting than any of the others she had taken. Stealing the souls of children was a matter of necessity, a means to prolong her own life... that ultimately meant ending their lives, but she'd always entertained the idea of keeping one of them as a constant companion. It did get lonely, being trapped in this house for so long, all by herself. But the Other Mother had never found one that she thought worth keeping around though. Until Coraline.

That girl was truly unique. Different from the spoiled, common children she'd taken before. The Other Mother had tapped into the girl's own imagination to create those fantastical wonders for her... the garden, the mice circus, the theatre. Coraline never suspected that her Other Mother had access to her every thought the last time she'd come. Exploring the depths of Coraline's imagination had been like traveling to some faraway, exotic land... so alien, so intriguing. So different than the others, whose dreams were so... bland, so grey. She knew from that moment that Coraline was special. That she was the one.

As she probably should've expected, Coraline was also proving extremely difficult to break. Not so easily fooled, not like the others at all. She'd been enamored with her Other Mother's domain at first, but as soon as she'd been presented with the buttons, her feelings had turned around completely. The Other Mother was not used to such defiance. It was amusing... a bit refreshing in a way. Not only was she imaginative... but she was also brash, fiery, and defiant. When the beldam stole her old parents to lure her back, the girl challenged her, deceived her, and absconded with not just her parents, but also all of the beldam's previous captures. Even when the Other Mother had brought her back, and locked her behind the mirror for so many months, she hadn't  
shown any sign of giving in.

She would give in eventually, of course. How long could an 11-year old human girl possibly hold out, in the dark, with no food or sleep? No... the Other Mother would have her way, in time. She would sew the buttons, but she wouldn't discard Coraline like the others. She would become a real daughter to her, an everlasting companion in her dark corner of the universe. Perhaps she could even teach the girl her craft, make her an apprentice...

But now, it seemed she would never get the chance. She was wounded, and Coraline's _old_ mother was here, armed with a feromancer's tools; that archaic combustion weapon, and iron bullets. Not to mention the adder stone that would allow her to see past the Other Mother's illusions. The beldam had no idea where they were, and by the time she recovered, they could be long gone... along with all of her captures. Her only hope was that at least one of the eyes remained hidden. What Coraline hadn't known the last time was that there was another Eye... one she hadn't told her about, one that she always kept a secret. A safeguard just in case the Other Mother was ever bested by a feromancer. Even the Crowes hadn't known about it. As long as they had remained oblivious, she was safe. Even if she lost the other Eyes again, she could survive, and she could get more. Coraline would be eventually be hers, one way or another.

And that woman... that damnable woman, Coraline's _old_ mother... she would learn the hard way that the beldam was not to be crossed.

* * *

"Mom, _relax!"_

The cat was frozen where it sat, alarmed for the fact that he found himself staring down the barrel of Mel's lever-action shotgun. Mel had her eyes locked on the animal, staring down the iron sights, her finger hovering over the trigger; and Coraline tugging on her arm insistently from where she sat on the makeshift bed.

_"What are you?"_ Mel asked the cat, ignoring Coraline's pleas. The cat didn't answer, too preoccupied with the weapon in Mel's hands.

"It's _okay!_ He's not one of them!" Coraline insisted, speaking up a bit to try and gain her mother's attention. "Look at him; he doesn't have button eyes!"

Mel had recognized the cat as the feral stray that lived near the Pink Palace, but she hadn't noticed that particular aspect of the creature; it's eyes were in fact normal, not buttons like the other inhabitants of this world. But that still left one question...

"If that's the same cat from the woods, how can it talk?" She asked, still keeping her eyes on their feline intruder. It was the cat who answered that question.

"Because I can. Now, _if you don't mind...!" _He replied with an aggravated tone, his large blue eyes still focused on the gun. Mel finally let the weapon fall to her side, but continued to eye the talking cat suspiciously. It leapt from its perch atop a large tree root, striding over to Coraline, who reached out to stroke its head.

"You know him?" Mel inquired, still confused. After everything else that had happened, she shouldn't have been surprised by a talking cat. But then, she hadn't expected to run into a talking cat that she _knew._

"He helped me the last time I was here. He's a friend," her daughter answered.

"But how can he talk?" Mel repeated. That cat responded with an irritated glare.

"I don't know the answer to that any more than you do. Simply be thankful that I can; it means you've gained an ally."

Mel wasn't so sure she could trust a talking cat in this strange place, but Coraline seemed to think otherwise. Her daughter did have more experience with the Other World than her mother, after all... and Harland had advised Mel to keep an open mind. She only hoped she wouldn't regret it when she decided to trust the animal.

"What brings you here?" Coraline asked the feline as her mother took a seat beside her. The Cat took a seat opposite them, sitting back on its haunches and propping itself up with its front legs.

"I'm here to help, of course." He offered. "The stakes are higher, and the danger greater. At the very least, you'll need a guide in this dark corner of the universe."

"Wait," Mel interjected. "Are you the 'mutual acquaintance' Harland mentioned?"

The Cat shook its head once. "No. But I do know who he his. I can take you to him, but first," he looked back and forth between the two women, "...we have some things to discuss."

"Like what?" Coraline asked.

"Your so-called 'other mother'." It replied, eyeing Coraline.

Mel raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

The Cat turned around to survey the bioluminescent landscape of the forests below the ridge where they'd made camp. "I've found something. The means by which she survived after your last encounter. A secret that she has kept since before she came to the old house."

"What is it?" Mel inquired, her curiosity piqued.

That cat turned to look at her with its large blue eyes, one of its ears tilted sideways in what she assumed was the feline equivalent of a knowing smirk.

"There was another Eye."

Coraline looked dumbstruck. _"What?"_

"I told you she doesn't play fair," he replied smartly. "The last time you were here, you fled with three of the ghost eyes. What she didn't tell you... was that there was a fourth."

"But I only saw _three _ghosts." Coraline retorted. The Cat nodded in acknowledgement.

"And how many ghosts did you see this time?"

The answer was none; the Other Mother had taken others, it was true. From the looks of the Other World, she'd taken a lot, given how much it had expanded. Yet Coraline hadn't once laid eyes on the ghost of another child. She'd been all alone in that cell behind the mirror; obviously Coraline's tormentor didn't keep the souls of her victims all in one place anymore. It seemed she never had.

Coraline sighed. "Right, I get it. She kept it hidden somewhere else?"

The Cat turned its attention back to the exotic landscape beyond. "Yes. Not far from where we are now, actually."

"Harland told you that you would have to find all the ghost eyes in order to slay the old woman," he stated, addressing Mel, who nodded in affirmation. "But even he didn't know about this. It is critical that you find this particular Eye before you go any further."

"What's so special about this Eye?" Coraline questioned.

"I think you'll understand when you see who it belongs too." Was all he said.

Coraline and Mel exchanged glances. Mel was obviously skeptical, and though she didn't voice it, it was clear that she wondered if this was just a trap. But the look in Coraline's eyes told her that they should trust the animal. Mel was pretty much making things up as she went along, anyway. They had to start somewhere.

"How long do we have?" Mel asked the feline.

"If you still need to rest, you have time. She still believes her secret to be safe." Was his response. "Your attack on the beldam has weakened her, and thus, we have a window of opportunity to obtain the Eye. The servants that normally guard it have dispersed."

Mel pondered this for a moment; she wondered just what could make this one Eye so significant that it would have added security. Her first victim, perhaps? From what Harland had told her, the Other Mother had been around long before she'd stolen the younger brother of his great-grandmother, setting the stage for this whole drama. Maybe it was someone significant to the beldam herself; she had been human once, what if the first soul she'd harvested had been one of her own family? There had to be some reason for hoarding this single Eye, when she had abandoned all the others to escape from feromancers in the past.

"I guess it's as good a place as any to start. Coraline...?" Her daughter still looked a bit tired, not quite ready to begin travel just yet.

"I just need a few more hours, is all." With that, she lay back down on the improvised bed. Mel wondered if she should sleep as well; but that would run the risk of being taken by surprise as she slept. Mel had just reclaimed her only child after two years apart, and thus wasn't willing to risk losing her again. For anything.

"You should get some rest as well," the Cat suggested to Mel, returning to his seat at the end of the bed. "I'll wake you, if need be." Mel was pretty tired; she'd spent most of the night awake as to watch over her daughter, and only now did it occur to her just how exhausted she really was. The last time she'd slept had been the night before meeting Harland, and after their meeting she'd immediately begun her preparations for her expedition into the Other World, not wasting any time. Glancing at her watch, she realized she'd been awake for more than 24 hours straight. Though it wouldn't be the first time.

_Charlie always did say you were a workaholic, _she thought to herself. Maybe it would be best if she took some time to rest... although Mel didn't feel comfortable putting her safety as well as Coraline's in the hands of a talking cat, she didn't really have much choice. She would her strength for what was to come, no doubt. With that in mind, Mel kicked off her boots and crawled under the covers next to her daughter, who had already drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Half a day later would find Mel, Coraline, and their newly acquired feline companion trekking through the forest, the Cat in the lead. They managed to grab twelve of sleep before setting out, but Cat assured them that they still had plenty of time. The Other Mother had no means to heal herself, and could only wait for her injuries to heal on their own, which took time. Until she was fully recovered, she could not track their movements, and the servants that she had placed to guard the Eye they were after would be gone.

Coraline was back on her feet after having gotten nearly 18 hours of rest and making short work of Mel's improvised food supplies. She walked alongside her mother in a brand-new raincoat and swampers, no longer having lean on her mom for support.

"What's the point of all this?" Coraline asked as she observed their vibrant, yet darkened surroundings.

"I believe these woods were another trap. Perhaps for a child with a love of exploration, like yourself," the Cat suggested. At this, an unsettling thought occurred to the blue-haired girl.

"Mom... what's Wybie been doing?" She asked. Mel immediately caught on to her concern.

"It's okay," she reassured her daughter. "He's still safe back at home with his grandmother. Don't worry."

"Oh, good," said Coraline, breathing a sigh of relief. Wybie of course knew better than to fall for the beldam's tricks, as she had told him everything that had happened to her... well, except for the part about the Other Wybie. Too awkward.

"He misses you, you know," Mel teased, a mildly suggestive smile adorning her face. Coraline blushed.

"Yeah, I bet his life has been pretty boring without me," she replied jokingly. It occurred to her that Wybie didn't have any friends besides her; he didn't go to school like she did, having been home schooled by his grandmother his whole life. As if that weren't enough, he was also a 'psycho nerd', as she had called him when they first met. Most kids in town would no doubt be intimidated by his sheer weirdness. Coraline didn't mind it so much... though he still had to learn when to shut up. Still, she never thought she would miss her oddball friend so much.

"We're here," said the Cat, interrupting Coraline's thoughts. Coraline and Mel looked up to find themselves facing a rusty iron gate entangled with vines, and beyond, an old overgrown mansion that had the look of a stereotypical haunted house.

"This is the place?" Mel asked him. Cat nodded. "Didn't I just say that?"

Ignoring the feline's rudeness, Mel stepped up to the wrought-iron gate to peek through the bars. Beyond the gate was a cobblestone path that led up to the front door, flanked on either side by the gnarled, blackened vegetation, what she had assumed had once been a flourishing garden. There was no sign of any guards or traps, as far as she could tell. Mel stepped back, drawing her pistol from the holster as she did so, and leveled it at the padlock on the gate. The gate was not made of real iron, but rather whatever dark matter that made up the rest of the Other World. A single bullet of pure iron vaporized the lock, and the gate creaked open.

"Careful," Coraline advised her mother as they stepped through the opening. She hadn't forgotten the mosaic garden back at the Other Pink Palace, with the man-eating plants, giant mosquitos, and the killer mantis-tractor. She cautiously eyed her surroundings as the trio made its way up the cobblestone walkway, wary of the possibility of traps. They made it to the front door with no incident however, and one more round of feroshot from her mom's handgun served in lieu of a key.

"Hang on a second," Mel insisted, stopping to rifle through her backpack, eventually pulling out a flashlight and clicking it on before pushing the door all the way open and stepping inside.

They found themselves in the houses darkened foyer. Unlike a haunted house, there was very little dust, and no cobwebs or broken furniture inside. But then, the Cat had said that it'd only been abandoned recently. The only light inside came from Mel's flashlight, as the crystal chandelier above them was out. A grand staircase was directly opposite the entrance, with a set of double doors at the top and two smaller doors on either side, plus two more sets of doors on the ground floor leading off from the entrance hall.

There was also the bodies.

It seemed that the beldam was using the house as storage for many of her old servants. Inanimate, life-like, button-eyed puppets littered the floor, some of them damaged or morphed into strange forms. Coraline saw a few that she recognized; the gummy-like replicates of Ms. Spink and Forcible from the theatre were lying in a tangled heap not far from the door, along with several of their vampire-dog pets scattered around them. There were also the puppets of the Star Wars characters that she'd seen at that little boy's birthday party (Han Solo was frozen in a block of carbonite and Luke Skywalker was missing his hand). Beyond that, she saw the button-eyed duplicates of various ordinary people from across centuries; fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends that she assumed had been made for specific victims.

There was no blood, no foul smell of rotting flesh, but it was nevertheless unsettling to walk amid the puppet's corpses. To know what they were looking at... these people had been alive at some point, but only created for the sole purpose of luring innocent children to their doom, then callously discarded by the Other Mother when that purpose was fulfilled. It was a mass grave for hundreds of slaves; Coraline couldn't help but feel a twinge of sorrow for the lifeless beings around her; she once again remember her Other Father and the Other Wybie, how they had given their lives to help her. How many of these people had done the same to try to protect the children they'd helped deceive?

_"Coraline?"_

it was her mother who spoke. Coraline turned her attention away from the corpse piles to her mom, who was standing further down the hall, near the foot of the staircase. She appeared to be fixated on something lying among the bodies, and her face was pale. Coraline raised an eyebrow, silently walking over to where her mother stood in answer to her call, wondering what she'd found.

"What is it?" She asked her mother with confusion.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing," she choked out, clearly unnerved by something. Coraline followed her mother's gaze, and when she found the object of her interest, her heart nearly stopped.

It was her Other Father.

What was left of him, anyway. He looked much as he had the last time Coraline had seen him; a bizarre meld of man and squash, his hair a tangled mess of dark green vines, glasses askew over his black button eyes, his jaw slackened.. He was still in his wild-looking pajamas and orange monkey slippers from before, but they looked waterlogged and ragged, and were torn in several places.

_"Oh my God..."_ breathed Coraline, her heart breaking at the pitiful sight. Mel looked like she just wanted to wake up.

"Why does t-that... _thing _look like your father?" She asked with apprehension.

"Why do you think?" The Cat provided. Mel had forgotten that Coraline had mentioned her father being in her 'dreams' as well up until this point, and thus wasn't fully prepared for the sight of her husband, crossed with a pumpkin and buttons sewn into his eyes, looking as though he'd been drowned...

_Calm down_, she tried to reassure herself. _It's not really him, it's just a puppet, your real husband's in Pontiac tending to that bitter old-_

"He's... my Other Father," Coraline answered, stepping closer to inspect the body, as if she expected there was some chance he was still alive. There wasn't, of course; he'd been dead for over two years, she'd seen him drown with her own eyes, sinking into the pond after handing off the eye of the little ghost boy to her. Coraline tried to keep her composure as she looked upon the remains of one who'd sacrificed himself to save her, barely fighting back tears.

"At least... he used to be," she added.

Mel took her eyes off of the Other Father's lifeless body when she noticed how Coraline was acting. "Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

Coraline took a deep breath. "I'm fine, I just..." She paused for a moment to take another breath. "...he helped me, before. He gave his life to save me."

Mel understood, putting an arm around her daughter's shoulders to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Coraline."

Coraline stepped up to the Other Father's body, examining him more closely. She wanted to do something about this... he deserved better than being dumped in here like a piece of trash. She wasn't sure what she could do... there was no time for something like a burial. But as she looked upon the body, something caught her eye. Part of the fabric over his heart was torn slightly, a small trickle of sawdust spilling from the wound. Within, she could make out a small, glimmering object; a tiny, round crystal, like a marble, marred by a few hairline cracks on the surface. She reached out and plucked the object from his chest cavity, more sawdust spilling out and onto the floor as a result.

She turned the crystal over in her hands, examining it. As far as she could tell, this little vessel was what had contained the Other Father's soul. This was how _she_ gave life to her creations, it seemed. How they were able to think, feel, and act on their own. Though as empty as the husk before her, it would do for honoring him. Coraline pocketed the object, silently promising to bury it in the garden when they got home. She had a feeling that's how he would've liked it; he seemed to have really enjoyed gardening, but he'd only ever known the fabricated mosaic garden at the Other Pink Palace. It would do to lay him to rest in a _real_ garden.

Speaking of... there was no sign of the Other Wybie, but then Coraline had already seen what the Other Mother had done to him. What had happened to vessel that contained his soul, she didn't know; the beldam had most likely disposed of it. Perhaps it was somewhere among the piles of bodies, but she didn't have time to look. They still had to find the Eye that Cat had mentioned, whatever it was.

Suddenly, Coraline's thoughts were interrupted by a faint voice emanated from the shadows.

_You could stay here forever... if you want too..._

Coraline's heart skipped a beat. The voice was faint, barely a whisper, on the edge of hearing; but she'd heard it. Behind her... she whirled around, expecting to see the Other Mother emerging from the shadows.

Instead, she found herself painted by a trio of red laser beams coming from above, forming a triangle over her heart; from the shadows of the darkened foyer, she heard not only the faint voice of the Other Mother, but also the low growl of some unseen, other-worldly creature. And the sound of her mother shouting.

"Coraline, _look out!"_

* * *

Coraline barely had time to dive out of the way as a streak of blue light burst from out of nowhere, striking the floor where she had once stood. As she rolled over from her position on the ground, the assailant was revealed; a masked alien being in piecemeal metal armor, serrated blades extending from its gauntlets, his form solidifying as his cloaking generated was deactivated. He jumped down from his place in the rafters, approaching her slowly, it's shoulder-mounted cannon trained on her.

It was the Predator... or, she supposed the Other Predator. The one she'd seen in a comical arm-wrestling competition with Chewbacca at that little boy's birthday party, a display put on to impress the Other Mother's latest victim. Normally, Coraline would not be so easily frightened by some cheesy Hollywood movie monster... but then, she never expected the monsters to come to life and try to kill her. Maybe that was why she found herself frozen to the spot in terror as the Predator approached her, it's claw-like wrist mounted blades extended...

Then, its dramatic display was promptly cut off as a gunshot rang out; the creature howled in pain and dropped to its knees, revealing her mom standing behind it, smoke curling up from the barrel of the shotgun. The Predator had fallen to the floor, white flames licking at its fabricated reptilian flesh where the bullets had struck, consuming the sawdust that made up its innards. Maybe the alien in the movie was hard to kill... but it's duplicate was a creation of the Other Mother, and thus it was vulnerable to pure-iron slugs.

"Where did _that thing _come from?" Mel asked, astonished.

It took Coraline a second to recover from the shock. "It's one of her pets."

Mel cautiously approached the body of the slain Predator knock-off. "But why would she make a replica of some sci-fi movie monster?"

"It was one of the kids she brought here," Coraline explained, surveying the body."An 8-year old space geek. She was throwing him a party, and it had all these sci-fi characters as guests..."

Mel nudged the body with her foot to check that it was dead. "It's okay," her daughter reassured. "I think you got him."

No sooner than she had spoken, several more triangular clusters of targeting lasers bore down on them. The duo looked up, and found at least a half-dozen more of the Other Predator clinging to the rafters above, their cloaking fields collapsing and their shoulder mounted cannons ready to fire. Their piecemeal armor varied for each one, decorated with all manner of skulls, claws, and trophy weapons. Some were masked, but some were not, revealing their misshapen, tentacled heads with claw-like mandibles in formation around the jaw, and amber-colored buttons sewn into their irises.

Mel swore under her breath. Coraline looked up at the alien horde and spread her arms in exasperation.

"Aw, _come on!"_

* * *

**Up next: Chapter 6, _Sentimental Value..._**

**Author's Note: _HOLD ON NOW._ Let me just make it clear that this is _NOT_ a crossover story; the Predator won't be making more than one appearance. I already tried doing a full-fledged crossover once, and well... that didn't turn out so good. The Predator's appearance is just a cameo. ****Anyway, next chapter is the beldam's most closely guarded secret, and I also plan to show more of the Other World from the perspective of another familiar character... **


	6. 06: Sentimental Value

**Author's Notes: I am so sorry! I know it's been... like, four or five months since I've updated. Yeah. Serious writers block. This particular chapter was extremely difficult for me. I've been stuck on it this whole time. when I finally finished my first draft and got to editing, I realized it kind of sucked, and then it took me several weeks to edit. There were a few scenes I needed to do in this chapter, and I'm not sure if I did 'em right. Chances are I took a huge step backwards. Same as always; you decide if I succeeded or not at making it not suck. In the meantime, I'll try to make up for it by making some progress with chapter 7, which I've thankfully already started.**

**Critique is appreciated. Flames I can do without, thank you. Reviews are better than faves. Remember, I'm trying to improve.**

* * *

**Act I: _Reunification_**

**Chapter 6, _Sentimental Value_**

"You know, they're not as scary in person as they are in the movies."

"Maybe it's the button eyes. Not exactly what I'd call intimidating."

"Says you."

Mel sat at the bottom of the steps in the foyer, where just moments ago they'd been unexpectedly engaged in a battle with six replicates of a certain 1980's Hollywood movie monster. Her maroon raincoat lay on the floor beside her feet, and she had the sleeve of her turtleneck rolled up, revealing a pair of shallow cuts just below her shoulder. The six button-eyed Predator look-alikes that had attacked them were scattered across the floor, riddled with feroshot and smoking slightly. Coraline was rifling through her mothers bag, looking for the first aid kit her mom _said_ she brought so she could to treat her wounds.

"Are you okay?" Her daughter asked. Mel had one hand clamped over the gash in her arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Her injuries weren't that serious; one of those alien freaks had taken her by surprise during the fight, just as Mel noticed two of them bearing down on Coraline. She'd managed to take down both of them, but then the third took advantage of her distraction, attacking from behind with its claw-like wrist blades; Mel had managed to duck before the alien took off her head, but he still managed to graze her shoulder with the tips of his steel claws. The cut was pretty shallow, but it still hurt like hell.

"I'm fine, really..." Mel replied none-too-honestly, drawing a sharp breath as the wound stung painfully. "Just get me some bandages so I can wrap this up."

Coraline was already busy rummaging through her moms pack in search of a roll of bandages; her first aid kit had broken open somehow, and so the contents were spilled out in the bottom of the bag. She'd already found a bottle of antiseptic, which sat on the floor by her feet; but finding the roll of bandages her mom asked for was proving to be more frustrating than it should.

"Are you sure you remembered to pack any? I don't see- oh, wait." Coraline rummaged deeper into her mothers pack for a few seconds, and finally pulled out a roll of bandages; that which had been hiding from her in a corner pocket. "Found them!" She announced, handing them to her mother, along with the bottle of antiseptic. Mel proceeded to clean and wrap the wound carefully before securing the bandage. Once she was satisfied, Mel rolled the sleeve back up and put her coat back on, noting the tears in the sleeve with a bit of irritation; the coat was expensive. In retrospect, maybe wearing her best coat on an expedition into a dangerous alternate reality wasn't the best idea. It could've been much worse, though. If Coraline hadn't-

Wait a minute.

Coraline had used Mel's pistol to fend off her surprise attacker. Mel had dropped it in the middle of the fight, and her daughter picked it up when the other two advanced on her. Mel got to them first of course, but then the third came at her from behind. When Coraline saw this, she'd fired a single shot into the beasts torso, knocking it back. Once she'd recovered from the initial shock, Mel had finished the beast off with her shotgun.

But Coraline still had the gun on her. Mel could see it sticking out her pocket.

"Could you please give me my gun back?" Mel asked upon noticing this, holding out her hand expectantly.

Unfortunately, Coraline wasn't nearly as cooperative as her mother would've liked. Though she took the weapon out of her pocket, she didn't immediately hand it over.

"Can't I keep it?" She asked, examining the instrument of destruction in her hands. "I mean... what if we run into more of those things?" Though Coraline was making a reasonable point, Mel's motherly instincts refused to hear it. She cleared her throat loudly, her hand still extended, making her answer very clear. Coraline gave up, and surrendered the gun to her mother without resistance. But Mel wasn't done yet.

"This," she began, holding the gun up to eye level," ...is not a toy, Coraline."

Her daughter stared back at her, dumbfounded. "Are you serious?" She exclaimed. "I just saved your life, and you're giving me a lecture?"

"I'm risking my life to try and save yours," Mel replied, disregarding Coraline's protest. "It's my job as your mother to protect you from anyone who might hurt you. Including yourself."

"Oh, please," Coraline scoffed. "I know how to use a gun. I'm not stupid," she asserted. Mel was hardly convinced.

"Oh really? Then why did you have the safety switched off?" Mel demanded, flicking the guns safety back on as she did so for emphasis. Coraline's expression changed from pride to embarrassment, and her face was beginning to turn beet-red with the realization that she'd been in danger of blasting a hole in her pants.

"Whoops," she responded in a small voice, having been proven wrong. Mel nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, 'oops'. From now on, don't touch any of my weapons," Mel scolded. "It's my job to make sure you don't get hurt. I don't need you to make my job any more difficult."

Coraline didn't reply as Mel placed the handgun back in its holster, collected the scattergun and her bag, and turned to the stairs. But as Mel started up towards the double doors at the top of the staircase, Coraline renewed her argument with an assertion that Mel could not ignore.

"And what happens if _you _get hurt?" Coraline asked.

"I can take care of myself," Mel responded automatically. Though if she were honest with herself, she wasn't so certain about that. Mel had been runnning on luck for the most part, making things up as she went along. If not for her daughter, that monster would've taken her head off; but she couldn't admit that so easily. She was Coraline's mother, and she was the adult; there for, she had to be right all the time. It was practically a law of nature.

Observing their exchange was the Cat, sitting at the top of the banister with his enormous blue eyes fixed on the perturbed mother.

"You know, she does have a point," it stated. Mel glared at the feline for daring to speak aloud that fact.

"Am I seriously going to receive parental advice from a _talking cat?" _She snapped. If that Cat was offended by the implication of her tone, it made no indication aside from drawing its ears back, and continued to speak.

"No," it replied. "Actually, you're going to receive _survival advice_ from a _talking cat,"_ it corrected with a hint of arrogance. The small mammal slid down the railing to the bottom of the steps, putting himself at eye-level with Mel Jones. Somehow, she knew what it was going to say, and she knew that it was right, but Mel's stubborn nature refused to allow her to admit it so easily.

"You have no small task ahead of you," it began. "You've seen what your enemy is capable of," it nodded towards the ashen remains of the Other Predators.

"Those _things_ aren't supposed to be real. But she _made _them real," it stated.

"So the Other Mother can make our worst nightmares reality," Mel acknowledged reluctantly. That meant they were liable to see much worse than a handful of sci-fi horror movie knock-offs... and perhaps much more than she could handle alone. Unfortunately, there was only one other human being in this entire alternate reality that she could possibly work with, and she'd just saved Mel's life a few minutes ago; before she scolded her and told her she was too young to be handling a gun.

"There's more," Coraline chimed in. _"I _can't be killed in this place. _She_ won't let me. But... if you get hurt..." Mel turned to see that her daughter had tears in her eyes. She understood the situation perfectly now. The Other Mother obviously wanted Coraline alive, but there was no reason to spare _her._ If Mel died... Coraline would be left all alone in this twisted mockery of a wonderland, with no hope of escaping. How could an 11-year old hope to face the trials ahead by herself? True, she had escaped once... but the Other Mother would not underestimate her again, and on top of that her power had increased ten-fold since the last time. The odds weren't in their favor as it was. Mel was still amazed that she'd gotten this far, and she would be forever baffled if they actually managed to pull this off and make it home in one piece.

"Your chances would be much better working together. That starts with having the means to protect each other, as well as yourselves," the Cat provided.

Mel couldn't argue with that logic, as much as she would've liked too. She felt conflicted; she wanted to keep Coraline safe, but which was the better way to do that? She could either choose to rely on her own abilities, or she could lend Coraline a gun. Her daughter was liable to get hurt either way... but maybe less so if she had something to defend herself with. She took a moment to turn it over in her mind. Instincts demanded that she keep her daughter as far away as possible from sharp objects and lethal weapons. Logic suggested that the best way to keep Coraline safe was to give her otherwise defenseless child a gun. To do so would normally go against logic... but then, nothing about their current situation was 'normal'. Her mind was made up.

"All right." Mel sighed, unbuckling her pistol belt. "I must be breaking at least a hundred different rules in the parenting books, but..." she turned to her daughter, her hand outstretched, offering Coraline the holstered weapon. "...here."

From the surprised look she gave her, Coraline hadn't actually expected her mother to give the weapon back. She reached for it hesitantly... but Mel withdrew sharply, holding it out of reach.

"Hold on," Mel retracted. "Before I give this to you, I want to make a few things clear." Coraline didn't make any immature objections this time like one would expect, but waited and listened patiently this time; very atypical for an 11-year old girl, especially her. But in this case, she knew it was better to listen for once.

"First," she began. "...this is a tool, not a toy." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in. "Only take it out when you need to, and make sure the safety is on before you put it away." She put extra emphasis on the safety bit after Coraline's earlier bought of carelessness. Her daughter's face turned red once again at the mention of this.

"Two," Mel continued. "...I'm only allowing this because of our present situation. Once we're out of here, I expect you to give this back."

Coraline rolled her eyes at this. "Really? What possible use could I have for a _gun _in the real world?" Coraline couldn't help but think that something about the past two years without her must have made Mel Jones more than a little paranoid. Of course, having her only daughter abducted by a spider-witch from another dimension was definitely something Mel never would've expected to happen, so that might've had something to do with it.

"I'm not gonna run off and pull a Columbine as soon as we get back, okay?" Coraline insisted. She liked to think she had more common sense than her mother was insinuating.

"Coraline, this is serious!" Mel objected. "Now; do you understand? Do you _promise _me that you'll be careful?" She demanded.

"Yeah, _I get it,"_ Coraline insisted. Mel still withheld the firearm. _"Say the words, _please." She insisted.

Coraline sighed with exasperation. "I understand. I'll be careful. _I promise."_ She answered truthfully. Still, Mel hesitated. It was clear that she was still uncomfortable by the idea of giving a lethal firearm to her 11-year old daughter, but at the same time she wanted Coraline to be able to protect herself. Quite the conundrum for a mother concerned for her childs safety. But she didn't have much choice.

"Okay... _here."_ Instead of handing the weapon to Coraline, Mel circled around behind her daughter and dropped to one knee. She lifted up Coraline's raincoat and fastened the pistol belt around her daughter's waist, double-checking to make sure it was secured to her lithe frame.

_"Please_ don't make me regret this, okay?" The concerned mother pleaded.

"It'll be _fine,_ mom. Don't worry," her daughter reassured. That would have to be enough for Mel, for now. God knew that she would be glad when this was all over. Physical obstacles she had anticipated... mental obstacles, not as much. She had to wonder which was harder to deal with.

"If you are all prepared," said the Cat, "...we are nearing our goal."

* * *

Navigating through the manor was like trying to find their way in a hedge maze. The house didn't look that big on the outside, but it felt much bigger on the inside, with many halls, intersections, stairways, and even a few secret doors and hidden passages. The Cat seemed to know where he was going, though once or tiwce he led them to a dead end; each time hastily apoligizing for his mistakes before leading them off in another direction. Most of the doors that lined the halls were sealed, but a few were left slightly ajar; within, Mel and Coraline could see some dusty old furniture draped in white sheets, and more bodies of the Other Mother's discarded servants. They tried not to linger near these; the macabre display in the foyer had been enough. For Coraline, it especially difficult to look at, for she knew that they these people were more than just puppets. Though artificial, they had been alive; they could think and feel, and yet they were tossed out like garbage once the Other Mother had no further use for them. Coraline could barely understand how someone could be so callous.

Eventually, their guide led them to what they assumed was the top floor. At the top of the stairs, they found themselves in a long hallway lined with more doors. A few were left unlocked here as well, but there no bodies stored on this level; instead, when Mel and Coraline cautiously peered inside, they saw a pile of what looked like metal limbs composed of sewing implements, charred black button eyes, and cracked skeletal frames wrapped in tattered black cloth.

"What are those?" Mel asked no one in particular.

"Those are the usual guards. What's left of them..." answered the Cat. "Spiders. I think she uses them to defend against intruders. We'd best hurry before more of them come back."

With that, the Cat directed his attention towards a set of double doors at the far end of the hall.

"This is it." The Cat stated, facing the doors as the two women came up behind him. Coraline tried to open them first, tugging on the doorknob to no avail. Mel went next, pressing the barrel of her shotgun to the lock and firing once, causing the doors to fly open. The trio stepped through the opening, and found themselves in a large bedroom with a four-poster bed opposite them...

...and there before them, sitting on the bed, was a girl. Not a ghost. A young girl, supposedly still alive and without button eyes, her face hidden in shadow but appearing to be about Coraline's age, as best they could tell. She was clearly startled by their sudden appearance, emerald-green eyes darting from Mel, then to the Cat, and finally focusing on Coraline.

"Who are you?" The unknown girl asked. Mel noticed the girl's light british accent; and remembered the beldam had first surfaced in London, according to their benefactor. Perhaps this was one of her earliest victims? Mel observed the girl as she climbed out of the bed; she didn't seem to be frightened of them as she stepped out of the shadows... and gave Mel a shock.

She looked to be about 11-years old, and eerily familiar to Mel Jones. For the girl who stood before her was almost identical to her only daughter; the same freckled complexion, the same short-cropped bob of hair (except hers was jet-black instead of blue) and she even had a similar barrette in her hair. Unlike Coraline's, which was in the form of a multicolored dragonfly, hers was in the shape of a spider in emerald-green that perfectly matched her eyes. She wore a black dress, and expensive-looking black boots made of fine leather. The mysterious girl regarded the trio before her with confusion; no doubt wondering the purpose of the armed intruders in her room, and yet strangely calm.

"Uh... hello," said Mel to the little girl, who looked so much like _her _little girl. "My name is Mel Jones. I'm here to rescue you."

"You're... you haven't come to destroy me?" The girl asked, looking all the more confused. Mel raised an eyebrow, now equally befuddled by her reply; why would this girl think someone would come here to kill her?

"What...? No, of course not," she replied. "Why would I want to hurt you?"

"I..." the dark-haired girl seemed to have trouble answering her. "I'm not sure, but..." She trailed off, uncertain as to what she meant to say.

"You still didn't answer my first question."

"I told you," Mel asserted. "...my name is Mel Jones, and I'm-"

"Not _you,"_ the little girl interrupted. "I meant _her."_ She pointed at Coraline, who was staring at the girl, dumbstruck. Clearly she'd noticed how similar the english girl was to her in appearance.

"I'm... Coraline," her daughter replied with trepidation. "Who are you supposed to be? And why do you look like me?"

Coraline's ebony-clad duplicate didn't answer her. It seemed she didn't know the answer... but Mel had a feeling she did.

"I... I don't know. I'm not..." She paused to size Coraline up. "What do you mean, _why do I look like you?_ Why do _you_ look like _me?"_

"I think I get it." Mel interjected. Both girls, and the Cat as well, turned their attention to the mother. "What do you mean? Is this some kind of trick, or...?"

"It's no trick. And it's not an illusion." She replied. She turned to address the enigmatic girl before them. "What do you know about the Other Mother?"

"The Other Mother..." she mimicked. There was recognition in those verdant eyes. She knew what Mel was talking about.

"The one who imprisoned you here. Do you remember who she was before?" Mel asked. The girl took a few moments to reply, no doubt struggling to recall memories from five centuries ago.

"The Other Mother..." she repeated. "I know her... but who she was..."

"Is she your mother? Your real mother?" Mel supplied.

"I think... maybe? She's... a part of me. She brought us here... and locked me away," was all she said.

"But why? Why would she do that to you?" Coraline asked.

"I did something... I can't remember what, but..." she paused, raking her mind in search of the answer. "I think... I did something bad. Really bad."

"What could you have possibly done justify locking you up in here?" Mel asked, in disbelief at what she was hearing.

"I... broke her heart."

Coraline's eyes widened with realization. It all made sense now, why the Other Mother was so obsessed with her. This girl, who'd been incarcerated here for so long, was not just her first victim ever; this was her real daughter, from when she was still human, before she'd been corrupted by the dark arts. The little girl and Coraline looked so much alike, disturbingly so... that had to be the reason. Is that what the Other Mother saw in Coraline? The spitting image of her own child. Was that the real reason behind everything she'd done? Perhaps her true purpose was not to extend her own life; all the children she'd stolen... she was looking for a _replacement. _Somehow her own daughter was a disappointment to her, and so she had stolen all these kids over the centuries, looking for the ideal son or daughter... While her own flesh and blood was condemned to this prison, prolonging her life as she searched.

"I think I understand," Coraline replied. There was just one thing she didn't get; the girl before her didn't look at all like a ghost. She was coherent. But what really confused her was that she didn't have button eyes... and that didn't make any sense. The Other Mother had to sew buttons into the eyes of her victims to keep their spirits tethered to this place. To these questions, Coraline had no answers. She be fooling herself if she said she understood fully how the beldams powers worked.

"Well, it's over now. We're going to get you out of here." Mel reassured the girl.

"What about the others?" The beldams daughter asked her.

"We'll get them too, in time. But... where is your Eye?" Mel asked in return.

"My Eye?" The girl took a few seconds to remember what she was talking about. "It's... right there."

She had pointed at her dresser by the wall, atop which sat a featureless black orb that glowed faintly with an inner green light. It was small enough to fit in the palm of Mel's hand, light as a feather and cold to the touch as Mel picked it up from its stand. As soon as it was removed from its perch, the girl in ebony vanished into thin air, and the orb briefly flashed green.

_I'm still here. Don't worry. _Came a small whisper that seemed to emanate from the Eye.

"Do you have a name?" Coraline asked, having also heard the voice coming from within.

_I... can't remember._

Coraline had expected that. the other ghost children from before hadn't been able to remember their names either. Only the circumstances that led to their unfortunate fate, and the people they left behind.

"Well. I guess we got what we came for," Mel stated. "Now what?"

Now, that was a good question. One that no one in the room had an answer for. With the Cat's help, they'd gotten something of vital importance to the beldam, but as long as she had the souls of several other children in her possession, it didn't count for much. The world they found themselves in was enormous compared to Coraline's first visit, and the Other Mother would not be giving them any helpful clues this. Where were they even supposed to start?

"Shouldn't we start looking for the other eyes?" Coraline suggested none-too-helpfully.

"I don't even know where to begin," her mother admitted. "I suppose... we should try and find Harland's 'acquaintance'. Whoever they are, they might be able to point us in the right direction." That would be a sound plan, except Mel didn't know where _she_ was, either. Or even who she was. Harland had made it sound like the answer would be obvious, but Mel was completely stumped.

"But where do we find them?" Coraline inquired. This was becoming frustrating.

"I can help you find the old man's ally," the Cat supplied. "She'll be able to direct you to your next goal."

"Seems like you have all the answers." Mel commented, relieved that at least someone here knew what they were doing.

"Not all of them," the talkative feline admitted. "But I've been coming here long enough to have a few." Mel was about to express her gratitude for his aid when a the little girls voice cut her off, coming from the orb still in Mel's hand.

_We need to leave, _now.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" The Cat's ears perked up when he realized who she was talking to.

_She knows you're here. Her servants are coming._

"We've been found out!" Coraline shouted in alarm.

"Her guards will have come back. We'd best leave before more show up," the Cat urged. Mel nodded, giving the Eye to her daughter, who stuffed it in her bag. The three of them rushed out the door, retracing their steps back to the entrance. They charged back out the front door without seeing any opposition... until they were just a few feet from sur-iron gate.

The gate slammed shut, blocking their path. That's when they appeared behind them.

At first, Mel thought the Other Mother herself had come to challenge them. For when she turned around, there was a creature standing on the cobblestones behind them that looked very similar to their adversary; six feet in height, a skeletal frame with metallic limbs composed of sewing implements, draped in a ragged black cloak. But it had no face, only a pair of glowing, bluish-green button eyes gleaming beneath the hood of its cloak. It also had four arms instead of two, each ending in a claw-like hand with only three digits.

There was also a lot of them. Over a dozen were materializing out of nowhere in the dying garden on either side of the path. They wielded a panoply of ethereal weapons; semi-translucent and green, cleaver-like swords, large two-handed battle axes with crescent-shaped blades, ornate longbows and dual crossbows with their limbs shaped like gnarled tree branches.

"Coraline, get behind me," Mel instructed, readying her shotgun. Coraline obeyed as the horde of arachnite keepers drew closer, brandishing their weapons.

"When I give the word, shoot out the lock on the gate, and run," she directed. Coraline nodded in understanding, drawing the handgun that Mel had so reluctantly entrusted to her, and taking careful aim at the lock.

"NOW!"

Coraline pulled the trigger; the gate swung open. The Cat darted through first as Mel opened fire on the oncoming horde. One of the arachnites shrieked in agony as feroshot tore through its cloak, causing it to fall to the ground, its ethereal blades dispersing. Mel took a few more shots before turning and running off after her daughter and the Cat. A hail of spectral arrows and crossbow bolts trailed after her as the spider gave chase, scuttling over the ground with surprising speed and agility.

Mel wasn't so sure they could outrun these creatures, but out in the woods, they could fight back. There was more cover, and in such close quarters, Mel was at an advantage with the shotgun. That meant that the arachnites would take every advantage they could get as well; they scaled trees and rained arrows on them from above. They stayed low in the underbrush, charging them from cover to try and flank them, engaging the trio in a frenzied melee that left several of their own smoldering on the ground as white flames consumed their forms, courtesy of Mel's feroshot. And also Coraline's borrowed handgun, which she seemed to know how to use well enough.

Mel's trust hadn't been misplaced, it seemed. Coraline hadn't panicked; she was taking careful aim, dropping the arachnites with a single shot each, occasionally ducking into cover to reload. Even that cat was proving an asset in a battle, leaping on top of their adversaries and attacking their faceless skulls with its claws. It managed to tear the button eyes from their faces, causing them to stumble around blindly and making them easy targets for the two woman.

But there was too many of them. It seemed that for every spider they killed, two more took its place. They needed to get out of these woods, now.

_Help is coming. Just hold on._

Mel heard the voice of beldams offspring as she blasted an arachnite off its feet at point-blank range; it landed on its back a few feet away, curling up like a spider and disintegrating with a flash of white light. Mel wondered what kind of help could possibly come; weren't they all alone in this alternate dimension? And how did _she _know whenever something was coming their way?

She didn't have time to ponder it. Another arachnite was coming her way, a battleaxe cradled in its four hands. In scuttled towards her, swing the axe over its head; Mel dodged the attack, and the blade landed in the ground where she'd been standing, leaving a deep gouge in the earth. Mel's shotgun was empty; she needed to get away from this thing so she could reload. Coraline was preoccupied, crouching on the branch of a tree she'd climbed up, firing at a quartet of arachnites below her. The beast took another step forward, drawing its weapon back for another swing-

-and then a shot rang out from the other side of the clearing, and the spider fell face-forward, landing spread-eagled on the ground before her, its body rapidly turning to white embers. It was then that Mel realized that others had joined the fight; several men and woman wielding a variety antique weapons including shotguns like her own, Garand rifles, various pistols, and a few with medieval blades and bows.

But what caught Mel's attention was that they all had buttons for eyes.

"What in the name of God is going on?" She asked no one in particular. The arachnite keepers were beginning to scatter as they realized they were under attack. Several more fell to the barrage of ferous rounds, others were cut down by iron blades as the newcomers charged into the fray. The tables had turned, and now it was the spiders who were outnumbered, and they knew it. The last of them vanished into thin air as they came to realize that the battle was lost. Coraline jumped down from her perch and ran over to join her mother once the coast was clear, looking worried.

"Are you okay?" Coraline asked with concern. Mel nodded. "I fine. Just a little shaken. But, who...?

One of their rescuers was approaching them. It was another life-sized puppet in the image of a man; a grizzled man with short, dark-brown hair in a tan coat, wearing glasses over his black button eyes. He cradled a Browning automatic rifle in his hands, a belt of feroshot coiled around his arm and fed into the receiver. Mel pushed Coraline behind her, taking the pistol from her and leveling it at the stranger. He was not phased by this, and stared at her.

"Are you Mel Jones?" He asked. Mel nodded.

"I am. What's it to you?"

The man tilted his head at the weapon in her hands. "You can put that away. If I were of the Other Mother's creation, I would've simply done away with you and taken the girl back."

Mel couldn't argue with that logic, so she lowered the gun. "Alright. What do you want?"

"You are caught up in a struggle that has lasted hundreds of years. Our mistress believes you hold the key to ending this conflict, once and for all." He informed.

"Who is this 'mistress' of yours? And where did you come from?" Mel interrogated.

"An... 'old acquaintance'," the man answered. "You were told to seek her out. When you chose to go your own way, she asked that we bring you to her instead."

Harland's friend, it seemed.

"But _who _is she?" Mel asked once more. The puppet-mans answer was brief; and though the name he was to speak was very familiar, it would only serve to raise further questions.

_"Natalia."  
_

* * *

The Other Mother hated losing.

She'd played this game for five-hundred years. All this time, she'd had an ace up her sleeve... but it seemed she'd finally been caught cheating. Her most valuable possession was in the hands of her enemy. The one thing that allowed her to survive even when she was forced to run, forced to abandon all the others she had taken just to lose her pursuers. Somehow, they'd found it... and it, along with the thieves, had vanished from her sight.

She wasn't even sure what was going on, now... one moment, her servants had Coraline and her 'real' mother cornered... the next, the arachnites (her servants that were created in her own image) were routed by some unknown force. She couldn't sense them, the interlopers; but she had seen them through the eyes of her servants. Puppets. Likes the ones she crafted in her workshop. But not hers. Someone elses.

Feromancers she could deal with. But another beldam? The Other Mother had only ever met one other like her... but _she _wouldn't steal from her. No... that one was too proud, too idealistic, and too righteous to take part in that which she condoned... or would she? There were so few of their kind left... who or what could have possibly become aware of her presence, especially here, in the states? All of those who remained hid among the impoverished and displaced in what man called the 'Third World', far from civilization... except for-

"I wonder..." said an all too familiar voice behind her. "If you would consider my offer now...?"

The Other Mother turned to see another of her kind ascending the ladder to the attic. The being was like her... thin and angular, with a form that resembled a conjoining of woman and spider, with metal limbs composed of sewing tools. But this creature was taller, with four arms instead of two, each ending in a smaller claw-like hand with only four fingers. She was also draped in hooded black robes with elaborate silver designs. But what distinguished her from the Other Mother was her eyes; for she had no buttons, but instead a pair of sunken amber colored orbs with black pupils sunken into her skull. Not all of their kind had buttons for eyes; only those who were willing to go to more... extreme measures, to insure their survival.

The Other Mother knew this beldam as 'The Caretaker'; that was what she called herself, when she presented herself to her victims. They all took different titles. The Caretaker had mentioned others before, the last few times they had spoken. 'The Watcher', who had perished not long ago, after the village she preyed on was burned to the ground by militia. 'The Saviour', one of the oldest and most powerful, who liked to present herself as a servant of the gods to draw in her victims. 'The Godmother'; a title similar to her own, and willing to go to similar extremes to stay alive. Such methods could not protect her from one of their own, 'The Guardian', a scavenger that liked to steal the captures of others rather than hunt her own prey.

But the Caretaker... who was she?

"...or would you rather risk everything for your own foolish pride?"

The Other Mother had been asked this question by the Caretaker before. Her answer hadn't changed.

"I don't need you." In truth, the Other Mother just didn't trust her. Pride had very little to do with it. This being was the only other beldam she had seen in her entire life. Before the Caretaker first contacted her, she didn't even know there were others. Supposedly, she was one of the oldest of their kind; she resided in a small village in the heart of Africa amid a tribe of primitives that worshipped her as a god, and sacrificed their own children to appease her at every solstice. The Caretaker was also very unusual for a beldam, in that she was something of a political idealist; for centuries, she'd been trying to convince her brethren to work together, to stop stealing from one another and instead combine their strength so they might protect each other from the threat of feromancers.

There were a few that followed her... but beldams were selfish by nature, and sometimes hunted each other as well as the children of man. The Other Mother was not the only one who didn't trust the Caretaker, and not without good reason.

"Oh, I think you need my help more than you would like to admit," said the Caretaker. She didn't appear smug or amused; in fact, she looked a bit frustrated. The Caretaker didn't like that her sisters would consign themselves to death rather than consider the possibility of cooperation. Or so she said.

"No... I don't," the Other Mother retorted.

"Surely you've noticed what is going on?" The Caretaker insinuated. "Another beldam has intruded upon your realm. One you know well, in fact... and one just as powerful as you are."

This caused the Other Mothers brow to furrow. "What are you talking about?"

The Caretaker drew her head back, standing erect and folding two of her arms over her chest. "You don't know...?"

"You say that I know this interloper. But you are the only other I've met," she replied. This time, a hint of amusement shown on the Caretaker's face.

"But you do know her, don't you?" It didn't take long for her to put two and two together, but it only confused her even more.

"From when I was human?" The Caretaker did not respond at first. The Other Mother didn't understand... who did she know from her mortal years that could've followed in her footsteps? Her family was dead, she never had any friends, or enemies, or anyone she had a close personal relationship with in her life as a human. No one she couldn't account for, anyway. So who could...

"No." Said the Caretaker at last. "From after."

Oh. That would make much more sense. She would make plenty of enemies after transcending... the families of those she'd stolen, the feromancers who hunted her, most notably-

Wait.

"The enemy uses our own power against us," the Caretaker said gravely, confirming the Other Mother's suspicion. But it couldn't be _her..._could it?

"No. Even she wouldn't-"

"Your're right," the Caretaker interrupted. "She wouldn't. But she would find another way, and she has."

"Then you have no business here," said the Other Mother automatically. The Caretaker looked taken aback.

"What?" She replied with surprise. "Didn't you listen to a word I said? I told you-"

"I still don't need your help," the Other Mother snapped. Indeed, she still wasn't sure she could trust another beldam... and right now, she didn't want to take any more risks. But there was more... this was a personal matter. This woman and her descendants had chased her for centuries, stolen from her, and driven her into hiding in the back-end of nowhere. Now... not only was she not dead as the Other Mother would've thought, but she was _here..._ in _her_ domain, using her own powers against her? The Other Mother would not tolerate her adversary any longer. It was time to settle the score, once and for all. Whatever sacrifices her enemy had made to get here would be for nothing. In the end, the Other Mother would have Coraline, and both Mel Jones and her old enemy would pay for their transgressions.

All she had to do was find them. Coraline and her mother were gone from her sight... for now. But they would be back. She still had seven souls in her possession. They would eventually come for those. The Other Mother would insure that they didn't leave.

The Caretaker seemed to have realized that there was no convincing her to accept aid in this matter; for she had already turned back and descended the ladder back into the main house. As she stepped out the front door of the Pink Palace, she turned her amber eyes up to the attic window.

"I wish you the best of luck, sister," she spat with bitterness and frustration. "You will need it." It angered her, that the Other Mother would risk everything... not just for pride, but for petty revenge. In hindsight, perhaps she shouldn't have told her sister exactly who she was dealing with. One feromancer was the same as any other. Couldn't she understand that these intruders were a threat to more than just her? Of course, getting her fellows to overcome their selfish and reclusive nature had never been easy... and it became all the more frustrating as their numbers dwindled. There were only six of their kind who shared the Caretaker's ideals, and they had survived longer than any others by working together. The Other Mother had only been around for half as long as the Caretaker and her sisters, and yet it was a miracle that she survived so long on her own. But now... it seemed that her luck would run out.

There was nothing she could do about it, either. This domain was not hers, and thus she was at a disadvantage; being outside of her own domain meant her power was more limited here... unless the Other Mother accepted her aid. But you could not force a beldam to accept help she didn't ask for. The Caretaker could do nothing against feromancers unless she was at full power. Either her sister would listen to reason... or she would just have to sit back and watch.

* * *

**Up next: Chapter 7,_ Family Tradition_**

**Author's Notes: Well, there you go. Not sure if I should have cut it off right there... but I was worried about squeezing too much into one chapter, and I noticed my chapters have been getting longer as I go on. Next chapter is the last one in Act 1. There's more to come; Natalia will be introduced, and you'll learn a bit more about this mysterious girl; the Other Mother's true daughter, and the Other Mother herself, and where she came from. Hopefully I can do the story justice.**

**Again, if you have any critique offer, GIVE IT. If there's anything I need to improve on, I need to know about it. I'm seeing a few parts of this chapter that I think I could've done a lot better, but I'm not sure how...**

**Oh, and I think I should make this clear in case I get chewed out by some random arrogant jerk: _I do NOT think it is okay to allow your kids access to firearms_. People are still going crazy over the tragedy at Sandy Hook, so... just in case somebody takes that scene a little too seriously.**


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